


Thirty Past Midnight (or, The Last Year There Was Maple Syrup)

by Sara Generis (kanadka)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Body Horror, Future Fic, International Relations, M/M, Nuclear Winter, Post-Apocalypse, Zeppelins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:07:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1956171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanadka/pseuds/Sara%20Generis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 2171. Following nuclear winter after world war three, citizens took to the skies in gigantic zeppelins which now serve as the boundaries of their nations. Nations still exist, however, as commanders of the zeppelins. The world Fleet has a system of currency, politics, agriculture - all taking place in the air above, between and below the thick clouds that now prevent the ground from being habitable. Everything's perfect, now, right? (Dystopia featuring zeppelins. Pairs also include hinted-at England/Belgium, Ameripan, and squint-and-it's-there NedCan.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mirradin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirradin/gifts).



> The wonderful brightisthedawn aka Mirradin aka perfection gave me a prompt for the Arctic Land Bridge exchange on tumblr .....wwwaaay, way back when in December, and I'm sorry to say it took me 6 months to finish this, but I wanted to combine more than just the prompt of zeppelins. I also wanted to add dystopia and post-apocalypse verse, creepy atmosphere, world building and science. And maybe some extra rarepairs. The following is the amalgamation of all of the above. As to the narrative structure, well, I wanted to do something novel, so here's my first attempt at writing script!fic.
> 
> And oh gosh I'm so sorry it took so long! orz

**— 30 Dec 2171 —**

Dear England,

By now, you must have listened to the digital recorder I gave you. I’m glad you have it - I wanted you to know my motivations. I’m sure there will be awful things said about me, and I couldn’t take it if you thought them too. But you have the only copy, so I want you to distribute the relevant parts (and please only the relevant parts) of the content to my senior second commanders. They’ll make the decision whether to publicise the information, but the important part is, I’ll be gone for awhile and I want them to know I have not left them; that I would never leave them, that I find such a prospect unthinkable.

I  _need_  them to know this, because my survival as well hinges upon it.

During the next six months, as well as in the future, for the times I am not around for reasons you well know, I hereby relinquish my claim and submit the remaining Canadians in the Fleet, as well as my two ships, to you as British subjects and property respectively. I have the utmost confidence that Her Majesty Anne of the Air will treat my people with the grace and benevolence that have shaped her reign thus far. As for the physical airships themselves, the Princess Margaret and the St-Jean-sur-le-Courant, consider them an added bonus. Don’t worry about the learning curve, MacGregor of the St-Jean is my chief groundskeeper for both ships and she’ll take care of everything. She knows what to do for the biodome so nobody will go hungry in my absence.

I suspect my brother will say he doesn’t know why I do this. He’ll say he has first dibs on my people and their ships (and their food) and that I was the one who told him so. He’ll try and get the recorder and he’ll claim it’s for the greater good if it’s destroyed.

He’s lying to you. You - and I - owe him nothing, not the recorder, not even this letter. You’re the only one I trust to do this, because I know you’ll return me what’s rightfully mine in six months’ time. I’ll expect my new mining vessel then. Please keep it secured for me.

These dark times are becoming darker. May the sun continue to shine on your Empire even through them.

Yours,  
Canada

* * *

part one 

* * *

**— 02 Jan 2171 —**

Heard rumours of no more grapes on France’s ship. Reminder to give him a crate later today in exchange for one of the Madeira casks he got from Spain.

* * *

Cancel my last, France says seeds more important. Harvest seeds, give him in maybe a week’s time at next meeting. Don’t know what he could want with seeds, maybe he’s got plans for planting? But his ships are so small - many, but small. I don’t know where he’ll even fit a terrarium much less a full-fledged biodome. This is why I normally just give him the grapes.

* * *

Ah. Prussia says it’s an upgrade. France recently took in the Meursault to Germany’s massive floating hangar. It reemerged the Renard Débouré and it’s much larger than anything he’s ever flown. And it has a modest biodome.

Guess he’s had the Meursault about five years now, so it’s about time. Although for a class-20B zeppelin, y’know, she was quite hardy! Germany went to town when he designed her and she was fit to last another five years at least with minimal repairs, maybe just for the hull against the radiation.

Well. We all know Germany - king of recycling - taking apart the Meursault will yield a lot of spare parts to be sent elsewhere in the Fleet, and that’ll keep him busy for a few weeks. Turkey’s been itching for some hull repairs himself.

Think maybe France is depressed. The double-meaning to his ship-names isn’t lost on me. Must send him some of last year’s maple syrup in with the seeds. He can’t be depressed if there’s maple syrup.

* * *

**— 03 Jan 2171 —**

Meeting today. Wouldn’t be a new year without a really boring meeting.

* * *

Meeting uneventful. Wonder why they have to be every month. Why not every two?

I have better things to do. Harvest willow bark for aspirin processing. Sugar snap peas probably can be picked. Check on the potatoes. And as always the wheat fields.

* * *

**— 10 Jan 2171 —**

Found bugs in a bag at the silo. Dammit.

Going to try seeing what can be done about the rest. I’d be tempted just to filter them out if I weren’t so worried about the eggs hatching mid-delivery and other ships reporting faulty product to America.

* * *

Ukraine says she has backups available for the wheat. Whew, thank god. Trading her for a crate of maple syrup.

I  _don’t_  like the idea of America knowing I have less than optimal yield. Dodged a bullet there.

* * *

I mean not that he’d do anything to me, he’s my brother.

* * *

**— 18 Jan 2171 —**

Fleet elections coming up on the Aukuras. Haven’t paid much attention to their politics.

* * *

Oh my god. Wheat stocks are down. Oh, my god.

I’m a little terrified.

* * *

**— 22 Jan 2171 —**

Ugh, Lithuania, I actually don’t care about Lithuanian politics, I was just trying to be polite and make conversation and he is giving me so much more information than I needed.

* * *

Huh.

According to Lithuania, landslide victory for Adamkus aboard the Aukuras. This surprises him. Apparently Adamkus is a populist but Lithuania seems to think he’s a conservative, at least fiscally.

* * *

**— 23 Jan 2171 —**

Wheat bounces back. Oh thank  _Christ_  I can sleep again.

* * *

**— 25 Jan 2171 —**

Yeah, okay, so I see what Lithuania’s saying, Adamkus is definitely a conservative. And I knew the name was familiar - Adamkus’ wife, now Adamkienė, was Shelley Silverson, and that’s the Silverson family I think? The big one. And Silverson Senior’s had power on the Oppenheimer for a decade now.

I mean, not a full decade, like, he did two terms and then handed over power to Hutchley and is sitting pretty as vice-mayor, but let’s be real, who’s holding the power?

Told this to Lithuania. Got pretty mad at me for it. I think he thinks he’s being watched.

Gosh, just making conversation. He said he’d rather talk about anything else and switched the topic to - guess what - wheat, asking how that silo was doing, cause he’d heard rumours.

Would Ukraine really have spilled the beans about that? I’m tempted to delete all recordings pertaining to that matter…

That funny feeling where you’re not sure if cautious or paranoid. I understand, but Lithuania needs to take a Valium. I thought a conservative leader in America’s pocket was exactly what Lithuania was hoping for.

* * *

**— 01 Feb 2171 —**

Meeting today.

* * *

Meeting uneventful. Some mention on the wheat. Got a little nervous. Think Ukraine might’ve thrown me under the bus.

Don’t think anybody else suspects anything, though.

Elections coming up on the Globi. America doesn’t like the candidate for the Swiss Democrats, and has voiced this pretty loudly on a number of occasions, but Switzerland loves him. Switzerland got pretty pissy, said he didn’t know what America needs to be doing in his business. It’s not his ship. America made a joke about having a gun stuffed too far up his ass and that put a stop to Switzerland’s upset pretty quick.

Kinda think Switzerland has a point though.

\- Dammit, politics is so boring! I am not filling up an entire recorder with international politics.

I’m gonna go see how the garlic’s doing.

* * *

Garlic’s fine. Installed last of the taps on the maple trees while I was there. Expecting to get a decent amount on this year’s yield. It’s better every year as the trees grow.

Y’know, nobody else seems to be willing to do this, but I just think it’s because they don’t appreciate a good bottle of maple syrup. It’s the little things that matter when the whole world has ended and pancakes without it just aren’t the same!

Besides. I don’t see a lot of people growing sugarcane in the sky, hmm?

* * *

**— 13 Feb 2171 —**

Ground stuffs today. Turnips, potatoes and cabbages. Got tired and went to England’s around four for tea. I’ll finish the onions tomorrow.

* * *

**— 16 Feb 2171 —**

Missed the live news broadcast but the Daily Wing reports that stocks of potatoes and cabbages are up. That’s all me!

I’m just so happy they’re not talking about the wheat.

* * *

**— 17 Feb 2171 —**

Call from America about the onions. Almost forgot about those.

* * *

**— 20 Feb 2171 —**

America reports good yield on the eggs and milk. Skyrockets on the stock. He’ll be able to afford construction on that new lake out on the Weinberg-Wigner. Maybe we’ll get fish. I would  _love_  fish.

* * *

**— 28 Feb 2171 —**

Power down on the St-Jean and the backup generator didn’t kick in in time. They were just serviced! There should be  _no problem!_  I don’t understand. Gonna have to call Prussia, get him to come back and fix them.

Tempted to get it up past the clouds, see if the solar panels can kick in. Maybe the Jerusalem won’t notice.

* * *

Went up above the clouds for the St-Jean. Machines are back online and the mill’s working fine now. Cost a lot to upgrade to a roller system, so I can’t afford to have nothing to show for it. And if the flours don’t flow like the damned spice, it’s my hide on the line.

But for all the risks, it’s worth it. The way people’s faces lit up, just at a loaf of bread. It wasn’t the same, eating rice and potatoes day in and day out. We needed variety. A hundred years ago… well hardly anybody remembers, but the commanders - we nations - we don’t forget these things so easily.

I’m so glad we have this technology now. It’s like being back on the ground, being back home.

They forget that we lost a war.

* * *

**— 04 Mar 2171 —**

Meeting today.

* * *

Meeting uneventful. Poland wants a new ship for a university. America shot him down, says there’s already two universities - he’s got one and Germany’s got one - and that they don’t need any more. So I think Poland’s gonna try for a technical institute instead.

We’ll see how that goes. I dunno, America talks big but Poland does a  _lot_  for the Fleet and by no means is undeserving. And he and America are pretty close these days. He’ll probably get what he wants. It’ll cost a lot of money though.

Some murmurs from Cuba as to whether we really need this money spent on a university when there’s people down in the lower altitudes on their fifth week without regular sunlight exposure.

Y’know, I really don’t like how America always talks over him! It’s awful and - and Cuba had a good point, he needs more hydrogen because his ship sorta goes up and down unreliably, and his repairs have been stalled for ages now - although Prussia says he’s on the waitlist - well, Cuba doesn’t believe him. Cuba says he doesn’t believe anybody who is that close with America.

Gonna have lunch with Cuba later this week, see if I can’t bring his mood up a bit. Ice cream and maple syrup on the menu. He can’t be mad if I bring a peace offering!

* * *

Oh, and England didn’t say anything about the St-Jean. I assume I got away with it.

* * *

**— 10 Mar 2171 —**

Lunch with Cuba mildly distressing. His ship is really old, I don’t like it at all, it clanks and makes all sorts of awful sounds and really creeps me out. Must talk to Prussia.

Cuba told me to pay attention to Estonia and Denmark. I haven’t heard from them in awhile I say, and he’s like, yeah I know that’s cause you never pay attention to anything below ten klicks in the air, and I’m like that’s not true look at you, and he thinks that’s because we were friends From Before.

But speaking of Before, I’m pretty sure a lot of this - at least a bit!! - is his animosity with America. It just never went away, and if America keeps imposing these sanctions it never will!

And we know what happens when two countries are at each other’s throats long enough.

I’ll talk to America tomorrow.

* * *

**— 11 Mar 2171 —**

America beat me to the punch and dropped by. Said he’s been looking into the grain situation on the St-Jean. Guess I got found out after all.

At first I was a little worried but he said it’s cool, I don’t have to be concerned, he just wants to clear some room for legumes, maybe lentils and stuff. I thought India was covering lentils but maybe not? I don’t even know what’s happening. I don’t do the organising, I just grow and reap the stuff.

Anyway we got lost talking about that and before I knew it he had walked right out and back onto his transporter, heading back to his ship, and I still hadn’t asked him about Cuba.

Dammit, I could swear he does these things on purpose.

* * *

**— 14 Mar 2171 —**

Gotta talk to America about those sanctions for Cuba. It’s not fair for him to sit up there and tell Cuba what to do without at least giving him something to go on.

* * *

**\-- 15 Mar 2171 --**

Woke up early this morning by a nightmare of the Netherlands being slowly drowned by acid rains, the force of a monsoon pounding his skin, eating his face off, his flesh melting and hissing, screaming in agony - I can’t do anything but watch as he dies again and again -

I can’t get back to sleep so here I am with my recorder.

There’s still no sign of him. I checked online anyway. Nothing. I- I don’t know what I was expecting.

God I miss him.

People have told me to give up, it’s been ten years since his ship went missing. But a zeppelin could survive, landed, for that long, couldn’t it? Inflated enough to have room on the decks, the skeletal structure preserved? The radiation couldn’t possibly penetrate it from the ground up if it were properly hulled for ground landing.

I guess the rains might’ve destroyed the ship without the benefit of constant hull repairs…

Now that I think of it, the reason Latvia didn’t survive cancer was because his people had hardly survived the Scorching. There was so little left of him after the bombs blew Riga into the ground. They said the radiation took what remained. But … would the Netherlands survive such a thing? There were enough of his people. Would he rewake, only to be killed again by poisoned water? And I know it’s cold down there, the entire earth is a constant six degrees below freezing with this cloud cover, but he wasn’t exactly tropical himself, he could’ve gotten used to that…

_(Canada sighs.)_

Ten  _years_.

Well, 6 am by my watch, that’s time to start work. Though I think I might first check on the greenhouse. If I’m early enough nobody will notice what I’m doing and I can work on my flowers instead of the edibles I’m supposed to focus on.

Guess I can’t blame ‘em. You can’t eat tulips.

* * *

**— 16 Mar 2171 —**

Heard from Lithuania that Poland got the go on the technical institute. He’s getting a new ship for it. Lithuania says he’ll be contributing too. They’re both pretty excited.

Asked Lithuania about Estonia, and I could swear he gave me the weirdest look, like, “who?”

Uh, Estonia, man, your brother?

Anyway, Lithuania says they’re not actually brothers - okay, well, let’s not argue semantics here - and that he has no idea what Estonia’s been up to. Probably something with the internet. You know how Estonia is.

Don’t know what Cuba’s on about.

* * *

Dammit,  _Cuba!_  The sanctions!

I am the worst friend. Better send him some maple syrup.

First thing tomorrow. I’ll talk to him.

* * *

Checked online. Estonia’s been given mining operations in the lower altitudes for the next three months. Sulphur clouds, I think. He tried to petition the placement. Didn’t work.

Kinda strange. I didn’t think his ship was really big enough for it. Don’t you need at least a class-15 for hydrogen sulfide collection?

Oh well, maybe they’re pro-rating his yield. America wouldn’t send him down there without a good reason, we must need the hydrogen pretty bad. Takes a lot to keep us all up in the air so high.

* * *

**— 21 Mar 2171 —**

Final yield on the sugaring trees, I think. Project shut down tomorrow to complete next phase. Starting Spring season in the terrariums on St-Jean. It still feels weird to be tapping in October and running through ‘til February. What can you do. Amazing enough I’ve managed to grow sugar maples on an airship to such a height that they can be tapped at all, but then again these ships are marvels of German engineering, I can’t be too surprised. Prussia did a really good job with the HVAC on my ship; it’s almost like home. If it weren’t for the lack of snow I could ignore the differences completely. Must remember to give him his bottles when I see him next.

As usual, the taste won’t be the same.

But nothing’s the same.

* * *

**— 23 Mar 2171 —**

Emergency meeting called. Don’t know what for.

* * *

Emergency meeting mildly distressing. We’ve lost one of our number in the Fleet. Once all had been accounted for they said they found that it was Belgium.

Why is it always Belgium? Even when the wars aren’t in Europe!

Going to go have tea with England after this. England’s the one who found out about it. I think he’ll want company, even if he claims not to.

Plan on getting there first before France does. France means well, but he and England still derail into bickering, even after all this time. Even when they co-command a ship!

It’s almost nice, though. Some things never change.

* * *

England’s doing alright. He’s not impressed with the way America has been taking this - a little too cavalier for England’s tastes. But there isn’t much he can do. All motions were voted on by America, France, Germany, South Africa, and Australia. That’s more than enough to carry, so…

So we press on without her.

England says he isn’t going to just let her go like that, isn’t going to let her sink past the clouds. He’s been focusing his radar on trying to find her more than he has on anything else. America won’t like that, the radar system on the Jerusalem is the one we rely upon most.

England tapped his nose and said what America doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Well, I told him I wouldn’t say a word.

* * *

Stocks closed poorly. I think everybody’s a little unnerved.

You don’t just  _lose_  a nation.

I mean, we used to, sure, all the time, back when - in the midst of things, when the air was more toxic, when we were less prepared, when we were still on the ground. But this is different. Now we’re organised, we’re protected, we have a Fleet, we have internet, we have currency, we have political structure. We even still have our goddamn meetings.

We’re civilised again! At long last, we’re civilised!

We don’t lose nations!

* * *

**— 24 Mar 2171 —**

Met with America about the recent loss of Belgium. America is  _not_  nearly as okay as England thinks he is. He looks pale and withdrawn and that’s coming from someone with biodomes aplenty on the Oppenheimer. He gets enough sunlight with no problem. His hands shook over lunch, he can’t get a sentence out too well.

I tried not to say anything about it, you know, people have their quirks, and after awhile he seemed to get better. But he still told me at the end not to tell anybody about it.

Think he’s nervous. He said he doesn’t want people to see him weak, and I told him there’s no weakness in mourning - god, I should know, I mean  _Netherlands_ , I sobbed like a baby - but he wouldn’t listen to me. Says I don’t understand.

Think I might drop by on England again.

* * *

**— 25 Mar 2171 —**

Asked England about America - my initial goal was to try and repair some bridges there, I don’t want England thinking America is this carefree spirit when Belgium’s loss has affected him too. God knows he got some upset with me back when we lost Belarus - and I still don’t know how that happened, one moment we had 72 countries aboard 130 ships, the next it was 129 and more distressingly 71. And that’s why I switched to agriculture from radar and nav.

Well, England’s not having any of it. Said it’s like Japan all over again.

Japan, I say, really, what’s this about Japan?

Okay, so England tells me the story, what he does know and what he doesn’t and what’s speculation. England knows this much, there was a falling out between America and Japan, shortly before Japan’s disappearance maybe fifty, sixty years ago? I didn’t realise they were so close. England’s like yeah they were close, they were very close. So maybe they might’ve been lovers. I don’t know. That’s England’s theory.

England says that Japan’s the one who left and we’ve never seen him since.

But that’s not what America said! America - and okay, so this is fifty years ago, I’ll admit I’ve got a screwy memory sometimes but it’s only fifty years, that’s nothing to someone like me - I was like America said there was a fault in his airship, Japan’s I mean, and his ship went down, and - and he didn’t have to, it’s not like it was - but the commander went down with the ship. Japan could’ve saved himself but it was his honour that did him in. That’s what America said!

England’s like no, it wasn’t an honour thing - if all people have already died then of course the commander does too, that’s how we work now that we’re in the skies. The people tie us, since we have no land anymore.

I think England’s still bitter over Japan’s loss. Maybe it’s because of recently Belgium. Don’t know.

Anyway, it’s not a story America tells. England put it together pulling various threads out of various people. And once he had a theory put together, he asked America about it straight up, and America neither denied it nor confirmed it.

So I’m like, so it’s not true, and England tells me to mind my instincts. Because - England says this is the really interesting bit - when he asked America, he thinks America flat-out lied, because he shook and he stammered and he stumbled over his speech, started talking to himself. And he got real pale.

So now I don’t even know. Had they all died, before Japan did? Really? That was a nation of - well after the Scorching there were at least a good hundred thousand people left.

Japan would’ve said something if they were all dying, if he was  _going_  the way Latvia did.

* * *

But America told me not to tell, so I didn’t tell England. We talked about Belgium instead.

* * *

**— 28 Mar 2171 —**

Sent Prussia some maple syrup. Trying to get him to bump up Cuba on the waitlist. Not sure it’s working, Prussia does not have a single sweet tooth but a mouth full of ‘em.

Tried to get a hold of America for the sanctions but he’s busy. Oh well, at least I got something done for Cuba. That engine of his really needs to be looked at. I won’t go visit him again until it’s safe.

* * *

**— 03 Apr 2171 —**

England says he’s found something.

* * *

England found a wreck when we were passing over 40N, 75W. I told him there was no way to be sure if it’s Belgium just yet but he is steadfastly convinced it’s her. He’s applying to go search it himself next meeting.

I said I’d go with him.

* * *

**— 08 Apr 2171 —**

Meeting today.

* * *

Meeting fairly good. Got the go-ahead from America to pursue wreckage details on the 11th. We’ll fly out of formation for about a day to descend, take 4 hours to set up a shelter, and see if we can find Belgium or her people. If we have nothing by 4 hours we have to leave or we could get radiation poisoning.

Not that it does all that much to us. Obviously we’re taking as few humans as we can; this is a volunteer mission only, on high security clearance, and none have volunteered when the commanders are going. We’ll lose fewer people, but that means it’ll take longer to set up an interim shelter.

That’s a concern. If we find everybody alive, it’ll be more difficult with fewer staff to be able to process everybody, ensure they get treated and showered before they rebark one of our zeppelins. I almost hope we don’t find anybody. Don’t want to chance having to leave people behind because buoyancy is a constraint. A smaller airship won’t lift off with a significant weight excess.

England, naturally, has volunteered one of the Aslan’s smaller secondary crafts, one of the transporters, for duty. He’s transferred his people on it to France’s Renard Débouré. Think they’ve been billing it as a holiday. At any rate, none of the humans appear to be aware.

We’re not taking the full ship to the ground, at any rate. Not a secondary! Too dangerous. It’s not hulled for it. Landing pad somewhere.

If Belgium is out there, she’ll have her radios on her, and we’ll be able to pick them up easily. Takes maybe 50 minutes to set up a comms array, we’ll be able to track her in a radius of about 300km. No way has she been able to walk fast enough that we couldn’t find her.

America and Germany want to go too, as does France. England’s unhappy about all three coming with, but America wouldn’t let him go without tagging along so it’s this way or no way at all. He’ll have to deal.

* * *

**— 11 Apr 2171 —**

There’s a dirigible gangplank not far from the crash site which used to be a controls tower. We’ll set the Aslan’s transporter upon it and get dressed up when we land. Outside for an extended period of time. Level A protection, badges and everything. I’m not a big fan of hazmat gear.

My radiation badge is bright white. I’ve never used it. It darkens the more you have exposure to radiation, based on the extent of the radiation. Not expecting much to dot the surface while we’re there. It’s been a hundred years - the dirt itself would make a geiger counter go spastic. But that’s why we have shoes and suits and respirators and gas-masks.

There’s no way Russia or America made bombs with longer halflife than fifty years, is there? Well, America, I don’t think  _he_  would. Maybe Russia would have. But would he have had the funding for that kind of thing?

I guess I didn’t realise he had the funding to bomb the shit out of the Rockies, though. Him and his fucking  _salted bombs_. A hundred years later and I’ll never grow canola again.

It’d make sense, if he’d spent all his goddamn money on figuring out sophisticated ways to kill us all while leaving his own people starving in the Urals.

Hmph.

Yeah, that sounds like something Russia’d do, eh? Why, that’s just  _par for the course._

You know, sometimes I’m really  _glad_  he’s dead.

_(Canada sighs.)_

…Anyway.

My suspicion is the gasmasks are entirely unnecessary but America won’t be dissuaded and Germany, who’s always willing to err on the side of caution, agrees. He’s going full respirator, himself.

I’ve got a really bad feeling about this, so I’m keeping my recorder on, next to the two-way radio inside my suit. Canada out.

* * *

_(click)_

Germany: Alright. We are all here? … Good.

America: Wow, this is … man. This’s pretty close to New York City.

France: You are alright?

America: Yeah, I’ll be fine, don’t worry ‘bout me. Let’s get this show on the road, sooner we can get outta here.

England: Agreed. I’ve just about - ungh, nearly there -

_CLANG_

England: There we are, got the lock on this door.

America: Sweet. Say, wonder if the elevator still works.

[…]

America: Nope. Alright, stairs for us then. It’s thirteen floors!

[…]

America, out of breath:  _whew,_  God! Anybody got any water?

England, wheezing: Back on the Aslan, yes.

Germany, with a single cough: Allow me to remind us that we must come back  _up_  this way.

America: Man, you are  _such_  a killjoy.

France: If you are looking for the death to joy, it is there in the thick clouds, waiting to soak us in misery with a rain of ash and other particulate matter. … This is distressing. I can hardly see anything at all, this fog in front of our eyes. Please, let us find la Belgique soon and let us get out of here. For myself, I cannot bear to linger. To think, my land too must look like this…

America: Yeah… yeah. You gotta point.

[…]

_(a faint beeping)_

England: It seems the radios on the Spirou are over there.

[…]

England: Bearing a bit left. That direction.

America: Gotcha.

[…]

England: Guess that’s it there.  _Oh._  Oh, no - goodness…

Germany: You must bear in mind, it looks worse than it is. Remember, the Hindenburg had some survivors.

England: The - t-the metal, it’s all twisted, a-and the hull, how could she ever have possibly -

France: There, there.

England: Don’t you ‘there, there’  _me!_  She died horrifically!

America: But she’ll be okay. She’s probably already back.

England: I - yes. She must be. Say, is everybody here - yes, that’s you there but - hang on. Canada, where’s Canada!

Canada: I’m right here.

England:  _Goodness_. Would it kill you to say something to that effect once in awhile? I get  _worried_  and when I worry I get  _cross!_

Canada: Don’t shoot me! Sheesh. I’m fine!

America: Hey… there’s, there’s nothing here, you guys.

England: No Belgium?

Germany: It does not appear so. I cannot see her anywhere - ah, the source of the beeping, this is… this is her radio.

France: Why would she have left her own radio?

Germany: I do not know. But there is nothing here, no chairs, no tables. None of the food storage - I have just been to the pantry, there is no chocolate or beer, it is as though Belgium has not lived here for some time.

France: Do you suppose the ship has been raided?

America: Who would have raided it? Nobody can live down here on the surface. That control tower’s the closest thing around and it’s emptier than empty!

Germany: Hm. There is this. It is her vessel’s recorder.

America: Excellent! A clue! Let’s see that here.

England, harrumphs: Hadn’t we all better have a look at that?

America: Well, why? I’m the one with the best technology, best able to figure out what happened to it. And look, it’s all bungled up over here, it looks part roasted. D’you really want it?

France: It likely smells disgusting, all that burnt tape. America, if you want a task it’s yours, although I don’t relish the prospect of having to figure out something like that. It will be rather painstaking.

America: I’ll do it. I’m not afraid of hard work!

Canada: Speaking of things that should smell, there’s no remains.

America: Dude, that’s - who goes around  _looking_  for gore?

Canada: I’m just saying. Maybe nobody lived here but someone had to have been flying, hadn’t they? Did the bodies just disappear?

America: Belgium’s would have. But her humans wouldn’t.

Germany: I agree. But the way the zeppelin is positioned now gives me the impression that it fell as if the pilot were incapacitated. Or absent. Then, they could have jumped off. Certainly this ship is fitted with safety modules like slow-flight packs and parachutes. There is no sign of the smaller delivery vessels in the bay. Ah… but now that I think of it, I could not say if the crew and Belgium herself used them, or if they, like everything else on this ship, were not present before the flight fell.

America: Then how are we even so sure Belgium was actually on it? Isn’t it possible that one by one her citizens died and after some time there was nobody left?

England: God…

France: You could be a bit more sensitive!

America: Isn’t that what happened to Sweden?

Canada: It isn’t, actually, what happened to Sweden was - well… Nobody’s exactly sure what happened to Sweden.

England: She was at the last meeting, though. Sweden didn’t go for forty years, he sent Sealand, of all people, in his stead to make any decisions for him and when it was discovered that he was gone and his citizens were unaccounted and all there was, was bloody  _Sealand_  all alone in an empty airship, we had no idea what happened - but Belgium was here!

America: You sure?

England: Of course I’m sure!

France: But that doesn’t mean she was on the ship.

Canada: Then who was flying it?

America: Oh, you didn’t know? We can make self-guided unmanned ships now. China’s been working on it with Korea.

Canada: Nice timing! How perfect that this information comes up now.

America: Geez, what’s with the third degree! Look, go ask him if you don’t believe me. He’ll be pissed ‘cause he’s been working hard for all you haters. And I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little insulted. You don’t believe your own brother? Man.

Canada: I just want to be sure!

America: Yeah, well, this kind of paranoia pointin’ fingers act is what got us into this mess, isn’t it?

France: That is quite enough. Now. We will take this, and we will go home.

Germany: I agree.

Canada: But -

France:  _C’est assez!_

[…]

America, wheezing: These… stairs… geez louise!

England, out of breath: Just… keep climbing… we’re all… behind you. Keep moving…

[…]

America: We all here? Good, let’s get the hell out of here.

France: Yes, let us -

_(click)_

* * *

So we didn’t find anything at all. And I think I’m the only one who finds this weird.

Not to mention, this isn’t the first time America’s used the Scorching as a way to shut us all up…

No, you know what, it’s  _America_ , France outright told him to be more sensitive, and it was so obvious with England there, if he couldn’t see that much then I’m probably being crazy and reading into his actions the kind of manipulation that I would do.

And if he can’t manipulate that hard, he probably can’t lie too well, either. And he shakes and gets a little nervous sometimes and - and I should trust him.

* * *

**— 12 Apr 2171 —**

Back at the Princess Margaret. Found a note in my mailbox this morning…

It reads,  _Just because he’s your brother doesn’t mean you owe him unconditional trust. Mind your instincts._

It’s unsigned, but there are so few people who say ‘mind your instincts’.

I’m not surprised that England agrees with me. I think he and Belgium may have been close.

Better send him a little extra maple syrup this month. Cure for what ails you.

* * *

**— 01 May 2171 —**

Meeting today.

* * *

Meeting went well! Think I might finally have grown to love the sound of America’s enthusiastic but inane suggestions. That he can act so simple in such dark times! There’s  _something_  that doesn’t change. Guess he’s finally back up to 100%.

He must get that from England. Keeping calm and carrying on.

Lots of mining yield this time around. America’s pretty thrilled. Something must’ve passed through a cloud - I think this was Italy’s Val di Noto. It’s huge, and now the Fleet is sulphur-rich which means everybody gets five percent more hydrogen this month. A prize like this puts Italy in the running for next-level movement. So next month the brothers are finishing their tenure in acid collection and moving up a klick to join the Val d’Aran for processing. It’ll give them more time in the sun. I know Italy Romano has been needing that badly.

See? Some people move up levels! It’s not all that bad, the system works, doesn’t it?

Although some people moving up means others’ll have to pick up the slack. I wonder who’s going down next. I mean, it won’t be me, I’m agriculture, I need regular sunlight exposure.

Probably Chile. Chile’s yield last time wasn’t very good, they’ll want him to pay for it this round.

Re-election on the Oppenheimer coming up. America says everybody’s wishing Hutchley good luck. I really don’t think he’ll need it.

Some concerns raised about Belgium’s landed zeppelin. Some people who shall remain nameless _(Canada coughs and this sounds suspiciously like China)_  feel that it’s important to go back to salvage what we can. I don’t think Germany wants to, going once was enough. Prussia says he’ll go but I’m pretty sure he’s just being a loudmouth.

Not keen on the idea of pillaging what might be Belgium’s grave, myself. I know, she isn’t using the ship anymore, but … it feels wrong, somehow.

Nobody’s been able to find her in the Fleet, anywhere. Luxembourg won’t submit to a search of his ship - and he’s too high altitude for America to insist upon it - but if his word can be trusted then he isn’t harbouring her, or her citizens, which means they’ve left formation. If they took another zeppelin to do it, then that’s something Germany and Prussia don’t know about, and it’s unlikely there’s anything Germany doesn’t know about when it comes to inventory of spare ships. And even if she had stolen a ship, she would’ve had to swap out the signals, because England says he can’t find anything of her former codes on his radar onboard the Jerusalem. Why would she do that?

Why would she do any of this? What happened, was there some tragedy? Was it preventable? Is this revenge? For what? For her brother, for the Netherlands? Has this been ten years in the planning?

One more thing. Norway claims there’s a pirate ship. Looks like one of our zeppelins, actually run by pirates. About a week back. They hailed him and attempted to board and he - well you know, Norway, he’s a suspicious kinda guy - he asked for their Fleet codes first. They didn’t give Fleet codes and began a chase. He evaded them easily but sent his trolls after them when they took off. The Daily Wing will print the full story tomorrow; he gave them a long interview with a description and artist’s rendition and everything.

According to the trolls, Belgium wasn’t on that ship, either.

I think he must have been seeing things. I don’t exactly trust his trolls anyway, I can’t sense them.

Norway wouldn’t be the first of us to go mad.

Nevertheless, people have stopped wanting to open doors and venture out for trade. Until Germany and Korea have figured out how to make unmanned vehicles, someone needs to pilot the small intertrade ships, the transporters, and it needs to be someone who can’t die.

So that’s what I’ve been doing. Keeping an eye out for Belgium when I can and the unlikely event of pirates, I’ve gotten around to different ships in the Fleet. In the wake of Belgium’s disappearance I’ve wanted to personally keep stock of who’s who and where, at what altitude, myself, even if my own radar experiences ended so poorly.

What if we lost another so simply? What if it happened tomorrow?

* * *

**— 09 May 2171 —**

So China - I assume he had America’s permission for this, and I’m downright shocked America would agree to it - anyway China and a small crew of the Tie Guan Yin went back to the landing spot where Belgium’s zeppelin was found. The Tie Guan Yin’s small transporters must be better shielded than mine because I can’t see him sending a ground team made of humans otherwise. Good way to irradiate people.

They report not being able to locate the wreck. No zeppelin, no skeleton, nothing of the engine cars, no deflated hydrogen cells, not a single square inch of the tempered duralumin covering, nothing at all. Not one single bolt.

This is starting to get strange.

* * *

**— 13 May 2171 —**

_(click)_

_(alarms and frenzied shouting)_

_(brief exchange in Russian, two voices. One voice is discernibly Estonia, the other unknown)_

Canada: Okay, wow. Nope, Norway’s sane. There’s definitely pirates. How did they-

Estonia: Canada, please! I need your assistance -

Canada: Coming!!

_(click)_

* * *

Pirates?!

How they got a hold of a zeppelin I’ll never know, but they swung it and they’re in the air. I don’t think it’s Belgium’s zeppelin, either. Looked like a much older class.

So, uh. I don’t … well.  _(Canada clears his throat.)_

Tonight I was down in the lower altitudes delivering some of Prussia’s potatoes to Estonia. That’s where he lives now. Think he’s quite unhappy that he’s even had to move there, he said he knows his population isn’t producing nearly as much as they used to but that they’re all depressed, who can blame them, why should they be punished, how is distance  _away_  from the sun going to help with anything?

Typical Estonia won’t let it get to him - or if it is getting to him, he doesn’t let on about it publicly. He’s doing mining operations for us, but it’s real mining. I thought it was sulphur. No, he’s been dipping down as far as the  _surface_  to collect iron. We need that pretty bad; the yield has been insufficient lately. After Netherlands left it’s sorta been shifting from ship to ship. Hydrogen sulfide is easy enough to get, that’s what’s floating around in the clouds - all you have to do is fly through and scoop it up - but the iron, that’s how we’ve been making hydrogen - that stuff doesn’t just float around in the troposphere or anything.

But I didn’t think that he - well, I guess he  _must_  have a retrofit on the bottom of his hull. How else can he get to the surface safely?

I don’t know why the pirates went for him. He hasn’t got all that much. All the financial goodies are kept sky-locked in the Fleet, surrounded by a net of other ships. They must think the Vana Laev is easy prey. Lowest funding, lowest inflation of hydrogen…one of the lowest altitudes, certainly.

But lowest altitude is lowest amount of anything. Estonia has hardly got stuff to spare. So, naturally, Estonia gave chase, and they pursued as far high as cruising altitude of the lowest-funded ships, about ten thousand feet, before we lost ‘em in the cloud cover.

He almost blew through all his monthly fuel allowance - it’s not even mid-month - and didn’t get even close to the yield he was supposed to for iron. That’ll annoy America. I warned him about that, and he got very offended. ‘Is all I’m worth anymore a measly bag of iron filings so you can play chemistry set and get more hydrogen to inflate the highest’, he says.

I can’t exactly say the anger isn’t well-placed. Nor can I say I too don’t notice the pattern because  _I do_.

Easy for me to say, I have mandated cloud-break access through my biodomes, so I have to get to the top, or wheat doesn’t grow and nobody gets any bread. I told Estonia he was welcome to come visit anytime, everybody was welcome to visit anytime, I’m always open, unlike some ships, no visa requirements, but he didn’t seem placated. I’ll have to tell him again sometime when he doesn’t suspect it’s a pity invite.

Anyway, I noticed something. I’m no linguist, but I can tell the difference between Estonian and Russian, and Estonia was  _not_  speaking his own tongue.

But if the pirates are Russian, then that means Russia’s still around somewhere on this planet.

But America told me that Russia’s ship failed to float properly and succumbed, with not enough hydrogen to keep afloat. And one thing led to another or somewhere a spark happened and it was ‘oh the humanity’ all over again.

And there were no humans of Russian descent except for those who’d emigrated to places like England, Canada, etc. … who later became English, and Canadian. There’s no Russians left in the world, not in the skies.

No people, no ship, and no land meant Russia would die.

That happened a hundred years ago. Give it two generations …

Russia himself has been dead at least sixty years.

* * *

**— 14 May 2171 —**

Told America about the pirates. He’s called an emergency meeting.

* * *

**— 16 May 2171 —**

Emergency meeting today. I think I might keep my recorder on.

* * *

_(click)_

Hungary: Let’s begin. First up,  _what the hell pirates?!_

Austria:  _Russian_  pirates.

Hungary: No, I don’t believe that part.

Canada: I heard what I heard.

America: It couldn’t be Russia. Y’sure it wasn’t some other Slavic language?

Poland: Yeah. ‘Cause like I’m sure they all sound the same to you.

Canada: How about next time you come with me instead of staying nice ‘n’ high where it’s comfy, and you can tell for yourself, hm?

China: There is no need for such attitude!

America: S’cool, s’cool - I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that.

Poland: What- _ever._  It’s been like a hundred and fifty years that we’ve been in the skies. In that time, we’ve lost way more than we needed to. We lost Slovenia, Croatia, and Macedonia. We lost Belarus - which, can I like just remind you a little, was  _your_  fault, you maple-flavoured moron. And they all spoke Slavic languages!

Estonia: But I -

Austria: Lower ship classes are to petition for the right to make comment.

Estonia: I-it was on my ship!

Hungary: Sorry, Estonia. Rules is rules. Just raise your hand if you want to talk, mmkay?

Estonia: This is  _insulting_.

Hungary: The Hungarian ship Hévíz recognises her friends in the Estonian vessel Vana Laev.

Estonia:  _As I was saying!_  I don’t speak Belarussian. I speak enough Russian -

Poland: Oh my god, Estonia, they are totally the same thing.

Estonia: - a- _hem!!_  - to have placated that asshole for fifty years of illegal occupation -

America: Yeeeah, lemme just stop you there. Look, we don’t - we don’t have any more grudges, you got it? After the Scorching we forgot all of that.

Estonia: The point is, it was him. I  _knew_  it was his people. I can tell the difference between him and anybody else. Be sure of this.

_(murmurs: I don’t know - not so clear that - couldn’t tell the difference myself - grudge-holding after all this time? how shameful)_

Prussia: Hey wait a minute. Didn’t a significant proportion of your people speak Russian?

Estonia: Yes, that’s precisely my point!

Prussia: So maybe these pirates are yours.

Estonia: But they  _all_  speak my language now. Even those who emigrated shortly after the Union fell, they became my people, they speak my language. They’re  _Estonians_  now -

Germany: Technically, they are all residents of the Vana Laev.

Estonia: They  _wouldn’t say ‘da’_  if their lives depended on it!

Canada: Why would Estonia raid his own ship!?

Prussia: Hmm… what he did to you, you don’t forget a thing like that so easily. Especially not Estonia! Cut him off mid-sentence, no Christmas cards for four years! Hahaha!  _(some weak laughter in the crowd)_  Besides, if  _you_  can still speak Russian because you remember it, why can’t they?

Estonia: After a hundred and fifty years of  _my_  hegemony aboard the Vana Laev -

Poland: But they could’ve like taught it covertly. How do you think  _I_  survived so many partitions?

America: Stop, stop. Okay. Look. We’re going nowhere with this. Norway, you’re the only other person who saw the pirates. Whaddya think, Russkies?

Norway: Trolls don’t speak our languages, they couldn’t tell. The only Russian zeppelin we ever had in the Fleet - and that’s the Arkona for those of us keeping score - was downed before we began our period of expansionism. So there were no other Russian ships, just the one, all of us only had one ship apiece. That being said -

America: There you go! So then -

Norway: A- _hem_. Don’t appreciate being interrupted.

America: Oh. Heh, sorry! I got ahead of myself. Go on, Norway.

Norway:  _That being said_ , I do remember what a class-10 zeppelin looks like. And that’s what I saw from the auxiliary observation post.

Germany: Honestly, I have lost track of the number of class-10 zeppelins we had. We simply have been busier keeping track of everything class-17 and above. There have been so many.

Prussia: It’s possible someone found an old skeleton and got creative? We lost a few back in the day when we started having to fly higher.

America: They’d have to live on the ground for that. And that’s impossible. There’s one and only one hangar in this Fleet for ship repairs and that’s you guys. No other ship could take the weight of a hangar. I mean, it’s not like a little transporter or something, this is a full class zeppelin we’re talking about. Unless they had a permit for entrance while not being registered with a nation subFleet?

Germany: That is  _not_  possible. I may tell you with certainty this moment, such a thing did not happen. Everybody who passes through the Komplex for repairs is registered and double-checked. I do that myself. Every ship is someone’s.

America: Yeah, s’what I thought you’d say. Then they wouldn’t’ve had access to it. The only other option is the ground. Nobody can live down there - no thanks to Russia himself.

Prussia: But by your logic, it follows that the pirates are some of  _us_.

America: Hmm. Yeah. Okay, I see your point.

Estonia: The Arkona was -

Austria: Estonia,  _if_  you would be so kind as to raise your hand.

America: The Oppenheimer recognises the head of the Vanna Layve.

Estonia: It’s  _Laev_. And as I was saying the Arkona was precisely a class-10.

Prussia: Weren’t you listening? We just said we had too many class-10s to count. We can’t guarantee this is  _that_  class-10!

Estonia: Isn’t it worse if it isn’t? It would mean they’ve managed to get another one, which means they’ve had time on the ground and are mobile upon it.

America: That’s crazy talk.

Estonia: Prove to me they’re in our Fleet, and I’ll believe your crazy theories.  _(louder)_  Who among us would harbour pirates? Hmm?? Is it you? No? How about you? They came to me demanding medicine and supplies at gunpoint! Is that what you’ve been providing them? And may I remind you that theft would drive costs up for the rest of us! Can any of you - except the highest altitude, naturally! - can any among you afford to pay more for goods,  _and_  maintain what you pay for fuel and hydrogen?

_(louder murmurs: medicine - why would they steal - if the price went up - easily available, willow grown on the Margaret for aspirin - can’t grow their own? - targeting higher ships next - you did say recently that - I want more altitude if there’s pirates! - on your ships probably -)_

Hungary:  _Enough!!_

_(silence falls)_

Austria: Hungary, thank you. This is the logic of a conspiracy theorist. Estonia, I cannot allow you to spread this slander, this is bad for morale. I therefore issue a final warning, if you cannot keep your calm we will no longer allow the participation of the Vana Laev at the regular monthly meetings.

Germany: I second.

France: I third.

England: Don’t look at me. I think he’s got an excellent point.

America: Fourth. That passes.  _(a gavel is struck)_  Estonia, real sorry bro, but -

Estonia, bitterly and near tears: Oh, but you aren’t sorry at all.

_(sound of a chair pushed out, cloth shifting, footsteps and a door slam)_

Austria: Rude.

Hungary: Oooo-kay. Action items?

America: I think we oughta keep a watch out for this kind of activity. I have a ship I can sacrifice to lower altitudes, it doesn’t have too many people aboard and it’s a lot smaller. But it has all the fuel cells of a biggun’ so she moves like a racecar. She’ll catch whatever’s in the air.

Germany: Excellent. I second; I too have a ship we can use if Prussia would -

America: Aw, that’s okay, Germany, your people are busy makin’ new ships. You shouldn’t have to spend time at the bottom of the clouds with sulphur up your exhaust system. Besides, the ship I’ve got in mind is the Seaborg, she’s a mining ship anyway, so it’s not like I’ll be doing nothing. Don’t think  _he’s_ gonna be mining much iron for us with attitude like that, so someone’s gotta pick up the slack.

France: I second. America, that’s quite admirable of you.

Prussia: Thirding. I’m backdated on the ecosphere settings on the Anadolu, I haven’t got time to play in clouds.

England: Hmmph.

Germany: I - thank you, America, that’s thoughtful.

America: Hey, no prob! ‘S what a hero does. Don’t thank me, thank Turkey.

Turkey: Gotta admit, I’d like my scheduled upgrades sooner than later.

Prussia: I-I’m gettin’ to ‘em!

Turkey, grumbling: When? September?

America: It’s nothing, actually, I got a bunch in that region already. See? It’s fair.

Hungary: Any other business? […] Then I declare the meeting adjourned.

_(a gavel is struck. Rustling of papers, chairs and clothing as people get up and leave; murmurs: hey did anybody take minutes -)_

_(click)_

* * *

England caught up with me not long after the meeting ended and we all left to head back to our own ships. Said that if I happened to check on a few things myself and happened to displace the ship significantly, he’d happen not to look at the radar at that specific time.

This could be useful.

Still, sure wish he could  _happen_  to help out more actively than just resisting.

* * *

Guess I could say the same for myself.

Time to put my money where my mouth is.

* * *

**— 20 May 2171 —**

Delivery to the Vana Laev complete. Had dinner with Estonia. Short meal; Estonia’s still pissed off so I left before he threw dessert at me. I think he thinks I’m spying for America. But he took the spare hydrogen I trucked in with the transporter from the St-Jean and a little maple syrup. Hydrogen will last him the month but no more.

No pirates.

Estonia says I really ought to check up on Denmark.

* * *

**— 29 May 2171 —**

In the dark of night, as it is night on this part of the planet, it’s okay for the biodomes if the Princess Margaret descends past the clouds and swings by the lowest-altitude sectors with a little spare fuel. None of the plants come to harm if I take just a few hours to do this. England’s already said that he’ll pretend not to notice. Everybody onboard the Margaret is asleep. Except for a few people I’ve designated as my private team.

MacGregor at the forefront of them. She says she’s got friends aboard the Amalienborg who have murmurings of dissent. Don’t know how happy anybody - America, Germany, et cetera - would be to hear them, but that ship has been low-bound for months past its date now. Their tenure as iron mining operation ended over a year ago, and they overproduced beyond their quotas. That was the contract, they spend their time at the lowest altitudes, they do their time, they get to move up. They were supposed to come back up awhile ago. There’s literally no reason why they’re still mired in the deep.

The Lille Havfrue was recently replaced to the lower mid-section. Had to check online - it’s a demotion.

I wonder which of the two zeppelins actually houses the former nation.

Looks like something is rotten in Denmark.

* * *

Sorry, sorry! I’ve just always wanted to say that!

* * *

But seriously, why didn’t Norway say anything? He spoke up about the pirates but did he only speak up because it was a direct threat to his ship? I checked my notes. According to them, Denmark only comes to every second meeting.

And this is what happened to Sweden, and is nobody paying attention to other people? Is that just… not a thing we do anymore?!

Is this a conspiracy theory? Am I going crazy?

* * *

Upon further reflection…

I wouldn’t be the first of our kind to go mad.

* * *

**— 03 Jun 2171 —**

Meeting today.

* * *

Meeting successful, boring, and completely uninformative. No sign of pirates.

Then again with Estonia no longer in attendance, how are we supposed to know when he’s being attacked?

Pulled Norway aside after meeting to ask how Denmark was doing. (Denmark once more not in attendance.) Norway shrugged, and said he hadn’t spoken to Denmark in some time, and that suits Norway just fine because Denmark’s got his own problems. I asked him didn’t that remind him of a certain other Scandinavian, and that’s where Finland stepped in and asked politely - a little  _too_  politely - if maybe I’d stop bothering people and pestering and sticking my nose in where it didn’t belong.

Then America caught up with all three of us and asked if there were any problems.

 _(a mocking tone)_  No America, of course not America, we’re just fine America, no problems America, no sirree.

Is it just me, or do Finland and Norway both answer a little too quickly and a little too happily when America asks the questions?

* * *

**— 10 Jun 2171 —**

Dipped down a little too low below the clouds. Almost terrestrial levels. Nearly didn’t make it back for 5am, but … well. What America doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Won’t do that again.

* * *

 _Probably_  won’t do that again.

* * *

**— 11 Jun 2171 —**

I have to know.

* * *

8pm. Sunset three hours ago at this latitude and this time of year. Descending below clouds and have seen something across the port bow.

Derrick reports from starboard observation post, something’s coming close.

Have told the staff in engine room to deflate and go lower still. They looked at me like I’m crazy, and maybe I am, but.

I  _have_  to know.

* * *

It’s them, it’s definitely them. Veering right, they’re on our tail.

Catching up to us. This is not a mayday, repeat, not a mayday. Let me handle it, let me see what happens…

 _(Canada, shouting into the radio)_  Dip further! I don’t care what they said! No, repeat my last, dipping further low!  _Further low!!_  Altitude 2K and holding, that’s 2K and holding!! Do you read? […] Roger that! We stand here. […] Until I say so!! […] Well  _you_  get on the topological data then and make sure we don’t scuff a mountain!!

_(Canada clears his throat)_

I think I’d better keep this flipped on and maybe just clip it somewhere I can -

_(Crash, loud noises - shattering glass and moaning of structural beams as they bend. Alarms. Shrieks, shouting)_

\- jesus! We’re hit! I need to -

* * *

Report update. Hit the hull. Mostly deflected, haven’t managed to do any real structural damage that we can’t fix. Pretty sure one of our hydrogen cells is a bust but we have plenty, plenty more where that came from. We are leaning a bit, but I don’t think it’s detectable. Structural gas leak contained, that area is sealed off. Entire ship has been put on a no-smoking, no-fire alert just in case.

They’re still firing on us, but they’re way off. That’s one of the reasons I haven’t signalled return fire… That, and we haven’t really got all that much  _to_  fire. This isn’t a warship, we don’t  _build_  warships. She’s an agro-vessel, my job among others is to breadbasket the rest of this sorry planet.

I mean, what can I do, fling maple trees at ‘em?

And is it just my imagination or did they start firing over our hull? They can read the ship’s name by now with their scope, even the worst scope would be able to read it clearly. And they can aim decently enough. They could hit. They could hit us if they wanted to, they could blow us out of the sky and kill just over half of the population that remains with me. They’re not doing it.

They must know who I am.

They must want something. Well, let’s see what that is.

* * *

Maintained radio silence until we were safely enough away that the signals won’t reach the Fleet before succumbing to the dispersal of such thick atmosphere. They have yet to respond… but they’re following me…

* * *

They’re not Russian.

They’re  _Dutch_.

Holy maple, it’s  _him_.

* * *

They want -

_(a sigh)_

\- they, they - want me to land.

I’m going to land.

 _(Canada, shouting; his voice amplifed as though through a loudspeaker)_  All personnel of the Princess Margaret to the top deck and initiate shielding procedures for transporter takeoff to emergency landing,  _I repeat,_  this is an emergency landing!! Please standby for further instructions! Landing party alpha to loading dock five, be prepared with outdoor gear in fifteen minutes in front of transporter!  _This is not a drill!_

_(another alarm sounds)_

Okay,  _now_  I’m going to clip this somewhere safe.

* * *

_(click)_

[…]

Canada: It’s not the same one.

Unknown Male Voice 1: What?

Canada: It’s not the same one! It’s not the ship I saw from Estonia’s obser-

Unknown Male Voice 2: Who?

Canada: Uh… the. Commander of the Vana Laev. I saw a ship from his observation post, this isn’t the same one. It’s a different one.

Unknown Female Voice 1: Then they must have two.

Canada: At least. How did they get them?! There’s no way that Ger- uh, the, um. Commander of the Thüringen Komplex. There’s no way he would have just let them have these ships…

Unknown Male Voice 2: They could’ve stolen them.

Canada: That’s impossible.

Unknown Female Voice 2: Then maybe… they’re in cahoots?

Canada: Either that, or… they’ve been building them. Out of what, I don’t know - out of wrecks, maybe?

Unknown Male Voice 1: They’d need some sort of hangar. The only one’s on the Thüringen, unless they’re camping out on the ground.

Canada: That’s also impossible. The ground is a poisoned wasteland, it’s why we’re in hazmat gear.

Unknown Female Voice 2: Speaking of the ground…

Canada: Oh my god. That’s - that’s the. That’s the Mount Royal, just over there… this is. This is  _me_.

Unknown Male Voice 2: …it’s you. Uh. Am I… missing something here?

Canada: N-never mind, I just. I didn’t recognise this place. It doesn’t look anything like it once did.

Unknown Female Voice 1: Commander? This is the Margaret - flying a bit blind here, sir - sensors reading touchdown on the pirate zeppelin. They’re on the ground. They should be … about fifty metres in front of you to your left. I imagine you can’t even see it through the haze?

Unknown Male Voice 1: Madcap fools, they’re on the  _ground?!_

Canada:  _(muttering)_  This place was a lot nicer before it was irradiated mercilessly by my brother and Russia in a pissing war of nuclear proportions…

Unknown Male Voice 2: Commander!

Canada: Yes! Sorry, Gauthier. Sorry. I’m. Right.  _(Canada heaves a deep breath)_  Okay, you guys keep an eye on them from the signals base. Head back to the transporter, keep your doors locked up tight. Spin up the gears for fast-liftoff and be prepared to  _move_. If they do anything funny in the ship, or if I tell you, depart immediately for the Margaret, and return home. The Fleet should be over the Pacific right now but double-check with the computers in Margaret’s Central Command. You are authorised to use maximum lift to maintain highest altitude and scout out above the clouds. Do whatever you can to return to your rightful place.

Unknown Female Voice 1: But what about you? You’re not going to stay out there alone, are you?? What if they pull weapons?

Unknown Male Voice 2: Based on the circulation patterns, the Fleet will be back this way again soon.

Canada: I’m fine. I can handle myself. Besides, I - well. I think I might know the commander of their ship. I don’t think he’ll pull weapons on me -

_(a clunking and snapping sound of many guns being cocked at once)_

Canada: - then again, I could be wrong.

Unknown Male Voice 1: Commander!!

Unknown Male Voice 3, heavily-accented Germanic: Hands up. Walk slowly forward three paces. Stop.

Canada, sarcastically: Anything else? I do a great jig.

Unknown Male Voice 3: You’re coming with us. We have your ship surrounded.

Canada: That’s impossible! That’s a class-9 zeppelin, its weight permits max 500 men aboard. You can’t possibly have enough protective suits -

Unknown Male Voice 4, heavily-accented Germanic: The air’s not a problem for us!  _(a bark of a laugh)_ We have enough people around your entire beautiful little ship, trust us on that. You don’t come quietly, we start ripping her to shreds. Then how will your people hide, hmm?

Unknown Male Voice 3: Radiation-sensitive, aren’t they? Don’t think there’s enough hazmat to go around.

Canada: Just let them go! You can take me, just let them go.

Unknown Female Voice 2: Commander, no!!

Canada, suddenly shouting: This is the Commander to the Margaret, you are to return to the Fleet immediately!  _That’s a direct order!_

Unknown Male Voice 5, heavily-accented Germanic: They’re initiating engines! Do we shoot? […] But we could bring them down! We could at least take the transporter - they’ve got  _so much_  aboard -

Canada: Yeah? Well you’re not getting any part of it.

Unknown Male Voice 3: Shut up!

_(sound of a slap)_

Canada: That was highly unnecessary.

Netherlands: I agree.  _This_  is more my style.

_(sound of a rather heavy blunt object - say, a gun - hitting a relatively soft one - say, Canada’s head - followed by the sound of a body crumpling to the ground)_

_(sound of a small craft powering up and lifting off, soon overtaken by the sound of a much larger craft picking up speed and leaving)_

_(sounds of muttering in Dutch, a body being dragged, heaved into a mostly-empty room from the hollow sound. A second set of liftoff preparations and liftoff, this time as heard from the inside. A door closes; footsteps walking away.)_

[…]

[…]

_(A door opens. Shifting of clothing; muffled speech of multiple unintelligible languages among which some English words can be discerned: “…plan would work well” “…concussed maybe…” “…wake him?” “chloroform … won’t wake for another three hours” “so you say” “…high hopes of success” “…by His graces…” “Careful!!” More shifting of clothing, a grunt. A door closes.)_

[…]

[…]

_(A door opens. Sounds of muttering in Russian. Shifting of clothing.)_

Unknown Female Voice 3, heavily-accented Slavic: Come on, come on.

_(Canada groans)_

Unknown Female Voice 3: Well, you might help me!

Canada: Wuh… what’s. Nnngh, my head. Stop, please.

Unknown Female Voice 3, impatient: Haven’t time for this!

Canada: Ow, ungh, stop, stoppit, geez! Wow, wait, are you - are you undressing me??!

Unknown Female Voice 3: You need shower! You were outside, the rays, and radiation - unprotected and exposed. For our benefit too, so in you go.

Canada: When was I outside?

Unknown Female Voice 3: When we transferred you to the San-

_(angry muttering in Russian; two, perhaps three voices)_

Unknown Female Voice 3: OK, I can’t tell you. Well it doesn’t matter. Get undressed.

Canada: Fine, just let me fix something here, I - wh- oh my god. Holy - holy  _shit_ , you’re -  _holy shit_  -

Unknown Female Voice 3: Do not dare look at him! You really think you deserve?!

Canada, panicking: Y-you’re supposed to be  _dead_  -

Unknown Female Voice 3: Consciousness is not required for a shower. I  _will_  hit you again!

Canada: I d-don’t understand!

Russia: There is nothing to understand. Vasilisa, if you please, I will take it from here. I must do this myself. I - no. No, I want. I want to do this myself. You understand? I must see it through. You and the others may leave us.

Unknown Female Voice 3 (Vasilisa): W-well don’t hit him, he’s already concussed!

Russia:  _(a dark, low laugh)_  Trust me on this, he’s fine. Ah! but if you would be so kind, could you - _(unintelligible exchange in Russian)_

Canada: Don’t leave me alone with him!

_(another sound of a painful sounding smack. A moan; then a body falls to the ground. Muttering in Russian, then the door opens and closes. The shower starts. The sound of the water trickling changes as it falls upon not hard tile but a soft, uneven form - probably Canada-shaped.)_

_(someone humming; a folksy tune)_

_(a low groan. A deep, chest-wracking cough.)_

Russia: Ah… you have woken? Hm. Well, there’s only so many times I can hit you before it doesn’t work anymore. […] Let me see that - hm. […] Hmmm… That’s not so good. I shall fix something here.

_(the sound of the water falling changes, as though water is trickling into a puddle)_

Canada: Why … you’re alive, I don’t.

Russia: So I am.

Canada: H-how?

Russia: It’s too bad. I had hoped that your time between ships did not adversely affect you. Sometimes it affects people rather…  _poorly_. And you’re coughing a bit much, and that’s a bad fever, and I don’t like the looks of those dark spots, and look here -

Canada: Oh,  _god_  -

Russia: This lovely blond hair of yours is just falling out. Clumps of it. You see? So I suspect this is radiation poisoning. There’s nothing to be done about it. It can’t be helped!

Canada: It’s … I’ll heal…

Russia: Not from this, you don’t. Take it from one who knows much better than you! No, I  _could_  give you three or four weeks on borrowed time, after which you would spend your time slowly succumbing to internal injuries in a matter of days…

_(a splurt - the sound of bubbles, humming and moaning from underwater)_

Russia, strained: … but - ngh! This is  _so_  much  _simpler_ , I find! […] No, don’t struggle, let us do it my way, yes? It is  _(a grunt)_  better. You see! Is why I had to send Vasilisa away, she doesn’t understand who we were, and I, I have to see these things through to the end. […] Be good, Canada, slip under, yes, that’s right, just so, like that…

_(the moaning grows louder. The squeal and thumps of someone kicking wet feet against the bathtub in vain. Sounds of splashing grow louder, more frenzied. Russia begins to sing.)_

Russia:  _Chto spoyotsya mne segodnya_  - come on, a little more! -  _chto uslishitsya_ -

_(the kicks and thumps weaken in intensity. Splashing fades. Russia sings louder.)_

Russia:  _Ptitsy veschie poyut_  - very good! I’ve almost got you! - your last breath now - it’s better this way, yes? Yes!  _Yes!!_  It is! Aah, I knew you’d agree! -  _da vse iz skazok_  -

_(thumps and kicks stop)_

Russia: There. Therrrrre we go. Now! That is three weeks of pain over with. […] I know, he is… indisposed, right now. But he’ll thank me later, I’m sure of it! That’s better, isn’t it, Cana-via? I knew you’d agree. […] No, I did the right thing. He will forgive me. […] Me? I’m okay. Okay okay. Look! My hands aren’t shaking at all! …Much. Okay that is just. The muscles. They tremble. It has nothing to do with anything. […] I don’t know why I bother talking to you when you never listen to me!  _I_  know what’s best!! Why do you think all these people follow me, hmmm? […] I can’t heeeearrr youuuu. I’m not liiiistening! […] No, I’m not, not, not okay. I have to - where is he? Where is he where is he I need him I - […] Stop it! Stoooop it, I don’t like it when - when you - when you make me - ngaaah, please, no more, stop it!! […]  _There_ , you little asshole, you wanted shaking?! Now I am shaking!!! […] Ah! no, noooo - it’s going to happen again, I can feel it, no I don’t don’t want it to - please! I can’t!! Somebody, please - g-get him for me - for me - for me -

_(this is repeated, muttered, in increasingly rapid and panicked Russian. Pounding on the door followed by attempting to break it down - evidently the lock is engaged. Finally a great bang.)_

Sweden: There y’ are. Why’d ya lock th’ door?

Russia:  _HELP ME_ , they are drowning me, drowning me, drowning me - !!

_(sobbing, muffled by clothing and probably a chest. A slow susurrus of shhh)_

Sweden: Y’okay? Shhh. S’ okay. Yer okay. C’mon, tell me what happened.

Russia, tearfully and hyperventilating: Outside. I’ll say it outside! It’s him, it’s  _him!!_

Sweden: Okay. You’ll say it outside. Jus’ ta warn you, here’s oth’r people there, so don’t fret.

Russia: No! No other people, only you! I won’t have it - they will -

Sweden: Shhh. I won’t leave ya. They’re gonna take care ‘f th’ mess in here. Okay? Take my hand. I won’t let ya go.

Russia: Th-thank you, I cannot - but thank you!

_(footsteps leaving. Enter three more voices, all speaking in Russian. The sound of water being displaced and sloshed about in the tub. A grunt. Something drips on the floor.)_

[…]

[…]

[…]

_(a shifting of clothing)_

Canada, in a scratchy, hoarse voice: Oh, thank you. I was wondering where all that had gotten to.

Unknown Male Voice 6, heavily-accented Slavic: By His graces, y-you’re awake! He is truly good!

Canada: Uh … yeah.

Unknown Male Voice 6: Well, it’s what He said, but -  _(unintelligible Russian which sounds like prayer)_ You’re not injured?? You weren’t breathing. And in the tub, we thought - you perhaps slipped and fell? Is dangerous!

Canada: I’m fine. A little sore. Listen, can you bring me that shirt? Yes, please, that one.

Unknown Male Voice 6: You can’t have it forever, we have to dispose of it, radiation - is - what is … what is this object here? It says ‘rec on’?

Canada: N-none of your business, that’s, uh, part of the clothing -

_(click)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Russia sings is [Kupola](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7-eCDVZH-Q) by Vladimir Vysotsky. The lyrics in question mean roughly,  
> “What song will come to me today, what will I hear?  
> Prophetic birds sing something from a tale.”  
> Translated with the help of a native Russian speaker, but the song is all in metaphor and prose, and neither of us are poets, so uh. Translation might be off. Don’t shoot!


	2. Chapter 2

part two

* * *

**— 14 Jun 2171 —**

Alright, so. I think they’ve left me alone for now. There’s a stationed guard outside, but I have the volume for playback turned way down. I’ve just listened to the tape.

I don’t exactly know what happened. Only remember bits and pieces - like Netherlands before he knocked me out, that  _hoser_  - and then I remember waking up with those people around me. That girl, Vasilisa, she’s definitely Russia’s, so he’s still got people. And Russia himself -!

Yeah…

Russia himself.

He’s crazier than he was. He has to be, that kind of … incident, that’s not normal. He never used to be like that. I mean he was a little  _off_  but he was never this bad! Whatever has happened to him, it’s affected him deeply. I wonder if it’s the radiation?

If I’d been anybody else - if I’d been human - he would’ve killed me.

That is, uh, he  _did_  kill me, it just didn’t take.

From what it sounds like, I think he knows how dangerous he is. When he’s talking to Vasilisa, I think he’s asking her to get prepared, to be sure someone’s stationed outside, because Sweden was right there, at the ready, and how could he have known otherwise? No, Russia must know how mad he is. What must that knowledge do to a person?

_(Canada sighs.)_

Can’t let myself get caught up playing sorry for the bully. After all, he’s the one who took the first shot. He’s the one who bombed the shit out of me, out of America, out of half the world, he bombed Latvia so bad he  _died_ , he’s the one who salted the earth, he’s the reason we live in gigantic metal airships in the sky! I should be glad he’s been driven completely insane. Serves him right.

…But what I don’t get is if he’s so obviously madcap nuts, then why are Netherlands and Sweden working with him?

They wouldn’t even let me keep my clothing. All my hazmat gear’s been incinerated, as has the clothing I was wearing before - shame, eh, I kinda liked that shirt - and now they’ve got me dolled up in something else. The pants seem too soft to be cotton, I’d almost guess animal skin if it weren’t for the case that there are no animals anymore. The shirt seems more like cotton but how cotton has managed to survive in this climate I don’t understand.

It, uh. It kinda looks Russian, the embroidery, I mean. I-in fact I’m pretty sure it’s what Russia was wearing when he, when he drowned me.

I’m not easy with him literally having given me the shirt off his back.

Well, I’ll add it to the shopping list of questions I’ve got whenever they get around to me, along with what do they want with me, how long do they plan on keeping me, and did the Margaret get away alright. I assume he intends to interrogate me.

* * *

Russia in to see me just now. Strange how these people look at him. They murmur things at his back, they cross themselves, they look at him like he’s their saviour.

Get the impression that Russia’s the one who set up this entire place, and if it’s his airship, then it must be so, but he said we’re not on any airship.

We’re actually  _on the ground_.

I’m like, why we should be underground when he just killed me for being poisoned - I don’t like the idea of dying many times! - and he’s like, don’t worry about it, we’re all safe in here.

How, I don’t know. I thought the ground would be radioactive for centuries! That was  _the point_  of salted bombs. At any rate, the air is for sure dangerous. This place must be shielded.

And it must be shielded electromagnetically. If they had any radio signalling at all, the Fleet would have found him. I thought at first, maybe it’s the bunker outside Ottawa, but we’re too far.

No, he says this is the Montreal metro. I don’t recognise it, but then again I’ve seen all of one room. He said I’d be surprised at the things there are here. Said how funny it is that this was once my land and for so long they’ve been here, and all the time I was in the air, and I had no idea.

It’s good to be home, I guess. Russia got snotty with me, said he doesn’t think it’s been  _my_  home in awhile, I’ve been in a very comfortable place. Both he and the guards looked right some ticked at that. I asked him where my people were, and he said they were back where they belonged, in their cosy, luxurious castle in the air. He let them go when I ordered the Margaret back to the Fleet.

Tried to thank him for that, but he said it wasn’t so nice, he’s prepared to ransom me. Then he checked his watch, told me he was a busy man on a strict schedule, warned me that I wouldn’t be allowed to leave without accompaniment, and at the moment they could spare nobody.

So, I’m a prisoner here, evidently. I’ll be given food and water - which, in Russia’s words, is soft enough even for me to handle, he made some crack about Persephone that I elected to ignore - but I’m not allowed out. I don’t know how long they’ll keep me.

If I’m not back in two weeks, I’ll miss a meeting. Not that that’ll mean too much - god knows some people don’t show up regularly. I suspect America will think nothing of my truancy.

But they said  _he_  was dead, and he couldn’t possibly have survived so long, and here he is. Russia said “they” were wrong about lots of things, what I believe and what is so are two different things. And Russia claims he’s changed, his people don’t think it’s cool to be lazy anymore, it’s no longer chic to bend rules and bribe - you can’t afford to do any of that down here - so neither does he. I will admit Russia seems different from how he used to be. The old mannerisms are the same … but different, somehow.

I’m really, really glad I brought this recorder. And that these pants have nice, deep pockets.

* * *

**— 15 Jun 2171 —**

_(click)_

Russia: - slept long enough. Lazy!

Canada: What can you expect, eh? It’s not like you gave me a whole hell of a lot to do.

Russia: Yes, well, I thought about it. It might be better for you to see our home a little closer. See what I’ve done with the place. So you’re free to go anywhere you like inside here, but I will be watching you at all times.

Canada: I thought you said you’ve got quite a lot to do.

Russia: Oh, yes! You will be helping me do it! Everybody pulls their weight around here, including you.

Canada:  _Great_. Well. What’s first?

_(click)_

* * *

_(click)_

Russia: - pass through the greenhouses. In this way.

Canada: These are much bigger than I thought they’d be.

Russia: Yes. Hydroponics requires a significant amount of space. And, as you can see, energy.

Canada: How’d you manage to solve the water problem?

Russia: Ah - yes. That. We’ll get to that -

Canada: And the energy? I can’t imagine you’re burning fossil fuels. Nuclear?

Russia: Of  _course_  not. I ought to slap you for even saying such a thing.

Canada: Who’s the one who nuked who first, eh?

_(sound of a slap)_

Canada: Ow!

Russia: I did warn you. None of that talk in here. I will allow you to speak of anything you want but that is a bit much, don’t you think? Don’t be offensive! I am being so hospitable! And some of our staff speak English -

Sweden: Thought I heard yer voice.

Russia: Ah! I did not expect to see you here.

Canada: Y-you - you -!

Sweden: Yeah… had ta fix a few things fer th’ heat pumps. Should be workin’ bett’r now. …God, don’t look like y’ve seen a damn ghost, ‘s just me.

Canada: You disappeared!

Sweden: Did not. I came here.

Canada: Why?! Why would you - why would you do that? Leave your people -

Sweden My people came w’th me.

Canada: What? Why!? How could you lead them into that much danger? Don’t you know how easily they die down here?!

Sweden: ‘S tough. Th’ tough’re strong. An’ if all’s left is th’ tough, then strong’s what I b’come.

Canada: O-okay well if you didn’t care about them then didn’t you think about what’d happen to you if they all died? What could possibly have been so much better for them down here, than up there?

Sweden: Mmm. You’ll find out.

Russia: Sweden here is the one who has implemented much of this warehouse. The cases, made by him; the energy system is heat exchangers, buried deep - it is his invention entirely - quite the brilliant engineer, I’m so fortunate he came to find me, literally he is a gift sent from above.

Sweden: Aw, quittit, yer makin’ me blush.

Russia: I say nothing but truth! I cannot but be proud.

_(an uncomfortable cough from Canada)_

Sweden: Anyway. ‘S been ‘bout thirty years ‘ve been here. ‘Bout right it looks fancy. Aft’r th’ first commune was set up -

Russia: Ah… yes. Let us not talk about the dark days, hm?

Sweden: All days’re dark.

Russia: Indeed. I shall not keep you, you are a busy man -

Sweden: That so.

Russia: - and anyway, I too must be off.

Sweden: How’s - uh. How’s Al’yev?

Russia: We will find out in approximately - twenty minutes. I shall pass on my sympathies.

Sweden: ‘S a good man. Hard-workin’. Valuable resource fer ya. Be a shame t’ lose ‘im.

Russia: Yes. You are right. Is difficult to find good men for airships - nobody wants to be in the air when they could be on solid ground. A shame  _some_  of us do not realise this.

Sweden: Hm.

Canada: Hey!

Russia: Good day!

[…]

Canada: Who’s Al’yev?

Russia: Aliyev is the fellow who brought you in from the ship. It seems the zeppelin we use for cargo was not shielded nearly as well as it should have been. You were both outside longer than is healthy.

Canada: Is he going to die?

Russia: Hmm, they all die eventually, some of them sooner. It is a dangerous job, he knew the risks! Of course, if we had better equipment, perhaps his death were not so in vain! And I wouldn’t’ve had to - hm. Help your sickness along.

Canada: Yeah? Do you do the same for them? D’you murder your crew to put them out of their misery? Because I guess they’re expendable, is that it?

Russia: Don’t be disgusting! His service is valued as are all the others’ here. If you can’t be respectful I will not discuss it further. What happened, has happened, and - for you - there were no ill effects. Of course, no topic of conversation is off-limits here but I do not want to talk about this. You could at least respect  _my_  feelings.

Canada: Russia, you held my head under water -

Russia: You don’t want to provoke me!

Canada: - and kept it there until I drowned -

Russia: La la la la, not listening!

Canada: Oh for the love of -

_(click)_

* * *

_(click)_

Canada, muttering: Don’t want to talk about it, he says. No topic is off-limit, he says! Then what the hell are the ‘dark days’, hmm? Awfully cavalier attitude to his own men dying -

Russia’s voice, far off: Stop lagging behind and catch up! You are so slow, Canada!

Canada, much louder and disgruntled: Coming!

_(click)_

* * *

_(click)_

Canada: They’re enormous.

Russia: Yes. This is the central station, three floors. Two subway interchanges, so there’s lots of room. But we can’t guarantee any isolated wings or quarantine.

Canada: Are they … genuflecting -?

_(discourse in Russian, Russia and other voices)_

Russia: Oh dear. It seems I am needed.

Canada: Uh, you can just leave me here.

Russia: I don’t think so! You’re coming with me.

Canada: But -!

_(rustling of cloth and hasty footsteps. Some muttering and exchange in Russian. Canada asking guys? guys??? Nobody is paying much attention to him. Then there is a sudden beeping - Russian is now in shouting registers, many more voices, much more loudly)_

Canada, to the recorder: I don’t know what the hell is going on here but I’m pretty sure someone just went into cardiac arrest. Russia’s - Russia’s the one stabilising his condition. I don’t understand. These people look at him like he’s a doctor and a god at the same time. I don’t get it. Do they not realise he’s the reason they’re down here?

_(more shouting in Russian. Squeaks of gurney wheels. The beeping sound stops, becomes regular and rhythmic.)_

Canada: What the hell is going on here?

Russia: It wasn’t obvious? That woman nearly died!

Canada: Yes I caught that much - I meant more why do people act like this with you? When did you learn emergency response? And they act - did you tell them you had some kind of power?

Russia: I would do no such thing.

Canada: I find that hard to believe.

Russia: Okay, I - didn’t put it that way. But it came after we set up the commune that I could be killed and return with no particular ramifications and they took one thing to mean another and it’s just easiest if I don’t disagree. Now! Are we through here? Because someone around here is going to die -

Canada: Yeah, that’s what I’ve gathered since these people seem to think yours is the last face they see before  _death_.

Russia: Someone may indeed succumb, probably the radiation poisoning gotten - may I add - when we transferred you, that fellow had the most exposure, more so even than Aliyev - there are others that may survive yet, we will have to see. Perhaps you can see to them, since you’re responsible!

Canada:  _I’m_  responsible?!

Russia: There were others too, badly burnt - if you are not willing to monitor the worst off, perhaps at least you can do that much. A real leader participates, doesn’t order around. And you don’t need to be a nurse to care for a sunburn.

Canada: But the sun doesn’t reach this far because the cloud cover is too thick. That’s the point of nuclear winter, no sun, no warmth, nothing grows!

Russia: True, but the ultraviolet wavelengths are still sunlight. Very dangerous risks these people took, as this planet has practically no ozone anymore.

Canada: And whose fault was that, hmm?

_(Russia mutters to himself, something in disgruntled Russian before, more loudly:)_

Russia: I am through with you! If you will continue to be so contrary then keep your mouth shut!

Canada: I don’t -

Russia: Ah! Not one more word!

_(click)_

* * *

**— 21 Jun 2171 —**

Okay so now I get to go out of my damn jail cell but every day I’m stuck watching Russia play nurse slash doctor slash…  _prophet_  to this gigantic place. And it’s honestly not always so exciting as the first day. There must be some two hundred people here - it’s a modest-sized hospital. No beds, just gurneys, sometimes not even that, sometimes people are just propped up on tables and blankets.

It looks like the ones that get the gurneys are the ones that are dying.

One died quietly, about an hour ago. Russia said a quick prayer - which seemed to make everybody around him doubly penant - and asked for someone to send his body out to the Plateau. I’m guessing that’s another station.

There’s one more thing. Russia asked the helper, if this man had family. Turns out there’s a son, about 29 years. Then he says, he inherits the water.

Not sure that I like the sound of that…

* * *

One more thing, why did they die so easily?

Guess it’s obvious. It’s a goddamn nuclear winter, this planet is toxic, and humans are fragile.

Of  _course_  they died.

At least Russia seems to have a bit of compassion for them. Everyone  _else_  seems to act like it’s perfectly normal. ‘Oh, how’s the weather today?’ ‘Fine, cloudy with a chance of dying people!’ ‘Well that’s Tuesdays for you! Ha-ha-ha!’

* * *

**— 27 Jun 2171 —**

Been conserving some of my battery life ‘til I can get to an outlet. There’s power down here but it’s all on generators - hasn’t been actual power to the sockets for years. I can’t document every little thing that goes on in this place, much as I’d like to. It’s enough I’ve got proof that people like Russia, Sweden and Netherlands still exist. I’ll bring that back and America will -

Actually, I don’t know what America will do.

We eat dinner communally, which means I accompany Russia to the hall. I don’t know how many people are here. This place is fucking huge, and it seems they don’t all eat at the same time, people eat in shifts. Russia’s is pretty late as far as shifts go - about 8pm if the clocks here are reliable - and he doesn’t get extra food. What he gets he’s been sharing with me.

I’ll… I’ll grudgingly admit it’s a point in his favour.

Ugh, I have to keep reminding myself this is the guy who bombed the planet.

Well. He helped. It was him who started it, but … they weren’t all his bombs.

Anyway, I’m wasting battery life philosophising. Back to details. From what I saw there were about ten thousand people there, and it seems like everyone provides for everybody else. That sort of scale of operation - it’s, it’s essentially communism, but on a scale like this? That’s unthinkable! I can see it working maybe on a few thousand. Little more than a tribe, but a whole city? It doesn’t make sense to me, but somehow Russia says they make it work.

A-and then -  _then_  Russia said the numbers are now in the hundred thousands. Um,  _how_ , exactly?! I have yet to see an army anywhere. If there’s nobody to stop you from not working or eating more than your fair share then how is it people don’t? How is it people don’t steal? Do they just get it all out of their systems with piracy? I’m not nearly optimistic to believe they live a life like this, hard work and toil for three square meals of bland potatoes and rice, out of the goodness of their hearts in the spirit of the brotherhood of man and peaceful living.

I don’t trust humans enough for that. I don’t trust  _us_ , and we live a lot longer than humans do. So I’m not convinced. Something’s funny here.

Didn’t get much time to ask him questions though because then Sweden popped up - kind of oddly convenient, isn’t it?

There are a few of us in Russia’s dinner shift. But Russia doesn’t let me leave his side. Sweden says it’s just as well because - and these are his words - “they” don’t exactly like me just yet. I haven’t exactly proven myself to be anything more than a nuisance. Extra mouth to feed with no forewarning. Can’t the highflier just get his ship and get out of the undergrounders’ space. Using up valuable resources.

There’s a lot of us vs them attitudes.

Off to the side at another table, I spotted Netherlands - and Belgium. Why am I not surprised.

I hope they don’t think I’m a nuisance too?

But, if Sweden’s a lot icier than he used to be, I won’t hold out much hope.

* * *

Even Netherlands? Really?

* * *

**— 02 Jul 2171 —**

Figure that in order to find out more about this place and the magical political system it appears to have, I’d better start showing some solidarity. Volunteered for the greenhouses since I’ve got experience with hydroponics - that’s what we used before we built the biodomes.

Russia says this places me under Netherlands’ instruction. Russia doesn’t seem too happy about that because it means there’s a giant block of time between meals in which he doesn’t get to watch over me like a hawk - he’s got his work in the hospital - but frankly I don’t mind too much because he’s also the guy who drowned me. Even if I got better, that’s a low blow.

And I don’t like working with dying people. I understand, someone’s gotta do it. I just don’t want it to be me. And Russia seems to have such a  _gift_  working with death.

Greenhouses are crazy extensive but they don’t grow anything that can’t be mass-grown. Very, very simple food. Maybe nobody steals from one another because nobody is eating three course meals. Rice and potatoes for everybody, no matter where you are. Dismal, but fair.

The vertical boxes are a really neat innovation - they’re well lit and they’re trying to get an irrigation system connected so that all the water recirculates. If they do that, they’ll need sensors to monitor what nutrients are where so that no one garden box gets too much and no other garden box is starving - sensors which they don’t appear to have the ability to build.

The Margaret could build them, though.

Again, all this talk about water. It is a significant resource, but they have enough for showers and baths for people who have been outside! They have enough to drink, but they still keep a chokehold on it. I don’t get it. Maybe I’ll ask Netherlands.

* * *

Netherlands didn’t answer any of my questions. In fact Netherlands hardly talked to me at all, hardly looked at me, shrugged me off. At best, he’s icy; for the most part, he ignores me completely.

I thought we were  _friends_. All those nightmares for nothing?

* * *

**— 04 Jul 2171 —**

Some progress.

He’s told me to call him ‘Willem’. We’re all to adopt human names for this place, not everybody knows we can just, like,  _respawn_  a little while later. I guess that’s why my room was kept so locked up and why Russia’s eager to keep a close watch on me. Maybe I haven’t been here long enough to get used to the low-level radiation and he expects me to keel over with poisoning again. Freak out a bunch of humans. But I seem to be doing okay.

'Willem'. Honestly. What a stupid name.

It’s  _not his name_. His name is  _Konig-something Nederlands!_  That didn’t stop when we took to the skies, it didn’t stop when he became commander of the Oranje, it didn’t stop when he left his post.

* * *

**— 06 Jul 2171 —**

It’s one step forward, three steps back with Netherlands, I swear to god! I asked him about how they all feel about Russia, and he got annoyed, like I didn’t know a damn thing, like come on, don’t tell me you didn’t figure that out? And I’m just blank, and he’s like by  _His_  graces?? whose graces do you think, who do you think they look at with such praise?

Okay, so it’s exactly as I thought, Russia’s created his own religion! I - I don’t, I can’t even understand why - apparently that’s not what he intended - so says Netherlands - but that’s what happened!!

So I’m like, are you angry because you don’t get any praise and have to pretend to have a stupid name, and he shook his head so violently it knocked some of his hair out of its spikes. He’s like, I don’t want to be known like that. That’s why the rest of them are silent about it, keep quiet about who they are. Nobody needs multiple gods, and apparently Russia - who they still don’t call ‘Russia’ - gets a bit of flack for it. Well, a lot of flack.

And then Netherlands says - oh-ho, this, this is rich - and then Netherlands is like, he doesn’t like leading as much as it looks. They love him but it takes its toll on him, even if he’s not half bad.

Not. Half. Bad.

Would you  _cry me_  a  _river!_

I can’t believe what I’m hearing, Russia, not half bad at leading, am I taking crazy pills here - but Netherlands shakes his head. Obviously he’s taken sides, because Netherlands goes on and says stuff about ‘all days are dark’ and ‘this time he’s right’. That he got it right this time.

He, he  _believes_  this stuff, this righteous prophet Russia nonsense. He knows how crazy he is, he knows what Russia did to the world…

Like fuck, Netherlands. You think you know a guy, and then they go and say something so completely mind-blowing!

* * *

You know what, I’m  _glad_  Russia’s crazy.

Not half bad at leading my maple-flavoured ass! He threw five bombs on Ottawa alone!

* * *

**— 17 Jul 2171 —**

Wandered into Romania.

Didn’t even know Romania wasn’t in the Fleet!

Anyway, he shot a jet of red sparks at my ass which pinched me hard so I’m guessing he wants literally nothing to do with me.

Good thing I don’t sit down to work the plants.

* * *

**— 23 Jul 2171 —**

Asked Sweden after dinner about it tonight, about Russia’s mental stability, saying I understand it’s difficult to lead.

Sweden’s tight-lipped as always but tells me that’s not why Russia’s crazy.

Tried to press for more details but Sweden wouldn’t talk any more about it.

Why is everybody  _lying_  to me.

* * *

**— 17 Aug 2171 —**

Haven’t got much time to talk, have to get to the greenhouses. There’s far too much work to do and too many people need feeding.

How did they manage down here without me.

* * *

**— 31 Aug 2171 —**

Mental note to check on the tomatoes, going well but keep things consistent. Soybeans good, need to regulate vitamins in the water better.

Have to think up a good system for these, maybe work in the trays on a vertical level. Connect with hoses. Pumps? Anyway, talked to Netherlands about it, he’s got some ideas.

* * *

**— 12 Sep 2171 —**

Pirates sent out again. Romania’s at the forefront. He doesn’t call them pirates, of course, he calls them - get this - their  _external procurement_  division.

Romania has a bad sense of humour.

* * *

**— 17 Sep 2171 —**

I wonder if Russia would let me grow weed here.

I mean it’s not a dry commune but nobody drinks too much, like they’re all trained out of alcoholism as a habit. Wonder how he managed that. Even Russia’s sober on a regular basis.

But it’s useful for some things, and he’s got people dying on him all the time, they can’t go through painkillers that much, can they?

I just think, it’d help with the dying. These people work too hard to die like that.

* * *

Russia says he’s not too keen on marijuana. We haven’t got any seeds for it anyway.

I’ll keep working on him.

Netherlands, of course, thinks it’s a fantastic idea.

* * *

**— 01 Oct 2171 —**

More exhausted than I have been in days. Months.

Worth it. Got a systems for the hydroponics up and running. Today Netherlands actually treated me like I was not shit on his shoe. Russia is just tickled pink. Even Sweden smiled.

I -

Wow.

I don’t remember the last time I craved approval this badly and I wasn’t a colony.

* * *

No, you know what, I don’t care, because people actually like me now - I’m no ‘real true undergrounder’ but I’m not the high-flying asshole they think I was so that’s progress, isn’t it?

* * *

**— 15 Oct 2171 —**

Russia took me aside today. Glowing with praise. Says I’ve improved the stock yield on tomatoes by about 20% over last year. And this is just through careful monitoring of the nutrient levels, imagine if I could get electronic sensors in here, hook ‘em up to a computer.

Tonight for the first time in a long time there was stewed tomatoes, enough for everybody.

 _I_  did that.

* * *

**— 19 Oct 2171 —**

I get it now. I  _get it_ , that’s why they’ve turned to piracy, it’s not food or water, it’s medicine!

* * *

**— 20 Oct 2171 —**

Okay, so I might’ve dug myself a bit of a hole.

Earlier today Russia came to visit in the greenhouses - this is a pretty common occurrence, I’ve come to expect him around quarter to three so we can take off to lunch. He still gives me half of his. But he came over much earlier today, says they need aspirin. Well the arctic willow isn’t free for harvesting yet so there isn’t all that much so I told him there isn’t much we could do - and then my mouth ran away from me and I told him it’s too bad we don’t have the room or ability for a full-blown tree, because there was a whole grove aboard the Margaret. And the way he pulled a face… it hit me…

So I put together that’s why they’ve got to take to the skies on occasion, there’s things that’s common place for us in the skies that they don’t have in nearly enough quantities. They’ve got the water figured out, food, electricity, heat, but not medicine.

They’ve got a health division working on it though. Russia said that they have people working on it, that they have some rudimentary treatments, but that they’ve had some recent setbacks. I tried to ask him more about those, about why they need to steal medicine from the Fleet, but he shut down and grew very angry. He said many were ill and that he wouldn’t let them die of sickness. They have enough hydrogen to propel the Arkona and the Sanjō-ga-take to go after whatever they need. They used to lie and tell the lowest-altitude zeppelins that it was a cargo delivery, but apparently that trick got old fast.

The Sanjō was Japan’s ship. Don’t think America would like that too much.

I told him he could’ve asked - but Russia’s like, do you really think your darling brother would have simply given me what I require, come now you cannot possibly be so stupid. So I’m like have you even _tried_  asking, and he’s like no, but do you think they’d so easily hand it over?

Well. Of course I don’t. Of course they wouldn’t. Netherlands agrees, and jumps in to say further that - and this is the really interesting part - that they demoted people who weren’t producing enough, they’re the ones who put them in the lower clouds, they’re not the kind to give out handouts.

That’s why he left. That’s exactly why he left, and because they would’ve done it to him. Because they _were_  doing it to him. Because the Oranje wasn’t a mining ship but they’d sent her out for iron anyway. And I said, you know, I’m like I would never have let that happen, let him languish in the clouds forever! But he sneered at me, being like yes you would have, because anything not to oppose your darling brother, including give me up.

I guess I understand why he’s so mad at me, but he hasn’t spoken to me all day. Seems I picked at a scab there.

Anyway Russia says we’ll try it my way, he’s always happy to explore ideas, they will try it the asking way.

That rat bastard hoser just can’t wait to say he told me so.

* * *

I would’ve done something. It was Netherlands, I would’ve  _done_  something.

* * *

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I would’ve done nothing at all, because, I mean, America, it’s not like I declared war on him when he invaded Poland or anything. It’s completely different. He’s on my side.

* * *

I’m pretty sure he’s on my side.

* * *

**— 24 Oct 2171 —**

Finally got a chance to meet up with a few others. Nepal is here, as is Lebanon, Ethiopia, Belarus - well, naturally - there’s Albania, Kenya, Sudan and Peru. Those are all I’ve noticed, but there were over two hundred of us before the Scorching - that should work out to two hundred zeppelins, but I know there were only about a hundred or so that survived to expansion into the Fleet. Surely the bombs couldn’t’ve killed more than fifty of us? So I thought!

Those are just the ones I’ve noticed. That’s a lot of numbers unaccounted for.

Did they all go like Latvia?

Only a few of them really wanted to talk to me. Belarus most of all. She says she’s thrilled at the progress she’s heard me make in the greenhouses and hopes that when I’m done with them - because, she implies, Netherlands doesn’t need all that help and she thinks she does - she hopes I’ll come visit her next and maybe help her out.

Belarus says she works in water filtration. And if that’s the case then I definitely want to see what I can do.

One thing that struck me…

She’s so happy.

But the rest of them are so - what’s the word. I don’t want to say it, but they all seem so …

Brainwashed?

As though it’s natural to live like this, under the ground, no sunlight, everything doled out by a central organisation they put all their trust in. None of them are disgruntled or unsatisfied, no, nothing of the sort - I guess it’s that they all seem a little too happy. They all seem willing to devote the rest of their lives to this place, they’re all willing to die for it, they’re willing to sacrifice so much for this dream of Russia’s, like he’s asking them  _trifles_  when it’s the lives of their people! And if Romania is any guess (because he seemed really interested in piloting) they’re all willing to pillage our Fleet for whatever we’ll give up.

Russia is somewhere between a god and the commander of an army. It’s - it’s terrifying.

It’s terrifying because obviously WWIII taught him nothing.

* * *

**— 30 Oct 2171 —**

Asked Romania about the recent ‘procurement run’. For once, he did not tell me to shut up and instead civilly informed me that it went rather well, and  _thank you for asking, you rude highflier_. I asked if they got any aspirin. He then tartly told me to mind my own business.

So, no.

* * *

**— 03 Nov 2171 —**

Be some time before the willow shrubs have grown enough to harvest. You can’t speed up bark.

* * *

**— 04 Nov 2171 —**

Talked to Belarus today. Going to meet her later after lunch to go over some things for the water filtration.

* * *

Wow…

This place is amazing.

Really wish I could keep my recorder on, but I don’t have infinite power.

* * *

_(click)_

Canada: Jesus fucking  _Christ_  this place is insane. She’s mad. He’s mad. Everybody is mad and I am the only one taking sanity pills. Oh my god. They are all insane.

Belarus: Oh, Canada! There you are again, where did you dash off to? Come, I need assistance with the late Mister Dorobylaw, do you mind very much? Because you would be helping, you know -

Canada: Uh, ahmmm… I’ll… I’ll be right there -

_(click)_

* * *

Alright. Allllright.

What happened back there -

They’re dessicating the bodies. Like stripping them clean. There’s no longer enough water to go around, there  _never has been_ , not really, but it’s getting worse, and they’re drying out the bodies to retrieve the water. And this is not a secret, everybody knows! Sweden looked at me like I was nuts when I told him how foolish and crazy this is, a-and he says to me, he’s like, not one drop is wasted, not one single drop, and that includes the plumbing apparently?? This is horrifying!!

Part of me knows it’s a pretty good system. O-objectively speaking! Theoretically! I mean, they’re not … they’re not using the water anymore, that’s true, I just -

And the other part of me is just -

And Sweden and Netherlands didn’t say anything about it, this is  _normal!!_

* * *

Oh my god. The pants, th-the pants he gave me, the pants I’ve been wearing for months, I thought they were animal skin.

_That’s not animal skin._

Oh my god, I can’t do this, I can’t do this I can’t, I can’t, I don’t care how happy she is, I don’t care how she’s right, Dorobylaw doesn’t need the water anymore, or his skin, or his anything, he’s gone and that’s that, she’s right, yes I know, b-but this is, this is inhumane, this isn’t -!!

* * *

**— 05 Nov 2171 —**

Caught up with Belgium, finally. I feel -  _(Canada sighs)_  - I feel a lot better talking to her. She’s found out about the water cycle and everything else only recently too. She must be a little more liberal-minded to it than I am; she’s not nearly as creeped out. You don’t be a country like Belgium without a very strong stomach.

And yet, she doesn’t exactly have the same casual attitudes of everybody else. Not quite like her brother. She recognises her people need safety… but if that’s so then why’d she bring ‘em here.

She said she wasn’t so surprised herself when she found out about the water. Said I used to have so much water that I got used to throwing it around, and I said no, we were restricted in the Fleet, don’t you remember, and she’s like no, I meant back when  _we_  actually meant something and we had borders.

It’s been so long, but she must be right.

In fact, the only thing that surprised  _her_ , was the fact that Russia gave me a mouthful of Dorobylaw’s water in a little vial, in thanks for my helping Belarus. I-it was her idea. That’s pretty generous of her, it’s - it’s like a peace offering, it’s - Belgium said it’s one of the more flattering things Belarus could ever do to me, it had taken them much longer to do the same for her and she’d been corresponding with her brother before she even left. With no small envy, Belgium said it’s like I’m one of them now.

I-I’m really one of them now.

And, and if  _Belarus_  of all people accepts me, and she’s in such a high position with such an important job!

* * *

I am one of them now.

Of course I am, in recognition of all my work on the hydroponics lab and the things I’ve done here, the way there’s so much more food, all that water from the dead turned to food for the living, that was me, me and Belarus and the Netherlands and it all fits, it’s so beautiful - of course I’m a part of this!

* * *

I’m just so happy to be recognised, I could kiss Belarus.

* * *

Russia’s face when he gave me the vial -

I’ve never felt so loved.

* * *

**— 10 Nov 2171 —**

I don’t know what to do with it. For days it’s just been sitting on my bed, under my pillow. It seems so wasteful after seeing how carefully it’s treated and how everything goes back to the main vats or the next of kin or something - Dorobylaw was a real old guy, apparently didn’t have anybody - but I can’t bring myself to  _drink_  it. This water once made up a human’s body, one of Russia’s humans. This was the water that inflated his cells, this was the water that made up his blood, his tissues, his brains, in his eyes, his spine.

* * *

On the other hand, he doesn’t need it anymore… but  _we_  do…

* * *

It tastes like water. Regular, ordinary, water.

I don’t know what I was expecting.

* * *

What have I done… this was a human’s once!

Dorobylaw’s sunken eyes, his shrivelled skin as she vacuumed away every last bit of it - I saw it - makes up over 75% of his body, and that’s what she took -

I’ll have nightmares for weeks. Weeks!

\- but it was the right thing! His water not just for me, but also for the hydroponics, there’s more water to the commune, wouldn’t that old man have wanted this commune to have food?

_What have I done??_

* * *

Sat with Belgium and Netherlands tonight at dinner. Since she’s been here less long, she makes a more interesting conversation partner than Netherlands, Sweden (always taciturn), or Russia himself. And she brings up a good point - since there are no forbidden topics of conversation, it leads her to suspect that people here - her brother included - really do honestly believe that this is the way they can live.

And yet it’s strange that there are so many here, and there’s no sentiment of dissent, nobody is ever unhappy.

Not like Estonia was. Not like Cuba was.

She told her brother that once, and she said he called her a killjoy, constantly looking for flaws. And he never claimed the system was perfect but everything worked, and there was a system in place.

I’m just saying, dissent would be a little more realistic. This, this is not realistic.

But Belgium doesn’t think the Netherlands has been brainwashed. For one thing, Belgium herself is happy to be here, even if it’s a little surreal. (Belgium tells me she has absolutely no problem with surrealism.)

That everybody here thinks this is the right way to live, that Russia was justified in what he had to do, and that if such people bothered them again nobody in this commune would hesitate to pick up weapons, there’s this element of righteousness. I know Netherlands thinks that it was an accident that Russia is made out to be a god, but … I really don’t.

I think he did it on purpose. I think he planned that.

I think he did it so his people would follow him to the ends of the earth on the path he wanted, unquestioningly, with the utmost faith in him - though I do believe he’ll look after them truly and faithfully in return. It’s true, he has no other option - they die, he dies, eventually. But it’s more than that.

I think Russia thinks he’s doing the right thing.

I think… I might be persuaded to agree with him.

But I wonder how many  _wrong_  things he had to do to get to this place, because to my knowledge, none of this comes out of nothing, this is not like some kind of equilibrium situation that you get when things have cooled down. Someone somewhere along the lines had to have rebelled.

* * *

I think he might’ve had to do some pretty bad things.

Some pretty bad things  _to humans_.

Nobody takes shit like desiccation of corpses lightly. Someone must have been shocked, must have freaked out. Someone had to have said something!

And someone who’s loud enough, whose voice carries enough, would give a growing commune quite the predicament. People get scared. People don’t pitch in and contribute - like Russia wants. They don’t do what he wants them to. They  _don’t play nice_.

Someone sees the opportunity for control through fear. Someone takes charge. And before you know it you’ve got a real problem on your hands.

And when Russia has problems on his hands, he tends to take care of them in nasty ways.

He gets his hands  _dirty_.

* * *

Think I must’ve eaten something at dinner tonight. Netherlands gave me his extra slice of bread before he left Belgium and me and now I just - I can’t keep anything down anymore.

* * *

Feeling worse and worse. I can’t work like this…

* * *

**— 11 Nov 2171 —**

Canada: Back at my room now.  _(he coughs)_  Can’t sleep. This’ll hurt come six am, but - oh hell, maybe I won’t make it that far. Might actually have to go to the hospital wing. I feel awful about that, but maybe Netherlands will cover for me. I know he’s already got his own work to do and it’s bad enough to take mine over too but I just can’t keep going. I wonder, but-  _(he is interrupted by more coughing)_  there’s no way it was the food -  _(more coughing. Canada covers his mouth as he does so; the sound is muffled by his hand and a handkerchief)_

Canada: Oh, great. It’s blood -

_(a knock on the door)_

Russia: Canada? I heard you were feeling ill - may I come in?

Canada: I - uh, yeah, c’mon in - just let me -

_(sounds of setting the recorder down on a wooden surface. A door opens)_

Canada: Who was it who told you I looked awful, by the way?

Russia: Th-that’s not important. Ah, dorogoy, you look awful!

Canada: I’m sorry, I tried, I, I don’t know what happened. I think - well, you know I stopped by Belarus’ station -

Russia: Of course, you did good work for her, she is so happy -

Canada: And she gave me some of the water - well, she gave it to you, you gave it to me. It was intended for ingestion, right?

Russia: Yes! Exactly so!

Canada: I thought of putting it in the hydroponics, but instead -  _(he coughs)_  - is it maybe possible the filtration missed something, because, I think, maybe having drunk it -

_(Canada is interrupted by a set of deep, chest-level wracking coughs.)_

Canada: Maybe we missed something, because, I think -

_(Canada is interrupted again by another set of coughs that with his effort manage not to be dry heaves. Russia tuts.)_

Canada: ‘S okay, it’s okay. I won’t retch.

Russia: Yes, it’s possible. I think you are correct. This is twice now, and you are so far from the ships, I worry -

Canada: You know, I’d really rather not spend weeks puking up my guts and slowly drowning in my own blood.

_(a squeak as Russia sits down on the bed, shuffling of clothing)_

Canada: Do - do we have to do it like that, though? I’m not a fan of strangulation.

Russia: I cannot justify a bullet on something like this -

Canada: You could just snap my neck though, that’d be quicker.

Russia: …Ah. Yes, I see.

_(more shifting of clothing and squeaks on the bed as either Canada moves, or Russia moves, or both, such that Russia is in position behind him, Canada’s back to his chest)_

Canada: On three? One -

_(a violent CRACK sound)_

_(the sound of squeaks and shifting cloth on the bed as the body is rearranged upon it)_

_(heavy, audible breathing. The breaths begin slowly and deeply and accelerate)_

Russia, whispering: It’s okay, it’s okay. He’ll come back, it’s okay. It’s not like before, he’ll come back. He has to come back. […] No, he’ll come, he’s not like you, it’s not like with you! […] You’re wrong, you’ll see. He’ll come back. He wasn’t very sick, he wasn’t like you. […] Of course he won’t be angry, that’s not how it works, he asked me to. […] No, I’m not talking to you anymore. I don’t. I won’t, don’t want to don’t want to don’t want to leave me leave me.

_(Russia begins to sing softly, the sound heavily muffled. Squeaks on the bed. He is rocking the dead body in his arms and singing into the corpse’s chest.)_

Russia: Can’t hear you, can’t hear you, darling,  _lyubimyy, lyubimeyshiy -_  can’t heeeear youuuu - _shepchutsya volny, i vzdykhayut, i poyut - no ne poymut oni, chudnye, ne poymut_  - go away, please, go away! Go away, go away go away go away go away!  _Tam za tumanami, vechnymi p’yanymi, tam za tumanami lyubyat nas i zhdut -_

_(the singing becomes louder, as though Russia is trying to be heard over voices that are not registered on the recording and that only he can truly hear)_

Russia:  _Zhdyot Sevastopol’, zhdyot Komchatka, zhdyot Kronshtadt! Verit i zhdyot zemlya rodnykh svoikh rebyat! Tam za tumanami! Vechnymi p’yanymi! Tam za tumanami - zheny ikh ne spyat_  - aah, I can’t take it anymore!

_(Russia breaks into loud sobs as he hyperventilates)_

Russia: Where is he, I need need need him, please, if there is a god anymore, please send me him, I can’t take this anymore, he needs to come to me now, please, please please, someone please fetch him, anyone, anyone who understands - oh god no!! Not you, Latvia, anybody but you! Go away! I told you, go away!

_(a slow murmur)_

Canada, groaning: God, my head. Whoa - Russia, geez -

_(muffled sobbing and shrieking as a squeak on the bed betrays Russia’s action of launching himself into Canada’s arms)_

Canada, murmuring: Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m alright. That wasn’t too long, was it? I’m okay, see? I’m alright. You’re alright. We’re both… alright.

_(Russia continues to sob)_

Canada: Okay, maybe just one of us is alright.

_(fifteen minutes pass in which Russia’s sobs grow quieter and quieter)_

Canada: There. Therrre. You’re okay.

Russia: I’m sorry.  _(he sniffles loudly)_  That was - I don’t like for people to see me like that. Just certain people. At least you’re one of us, I can’t imagine a human! Usually - Sweden is here, and when I - I really should have thought, I should have called him before I - to you, that would have been prudent. I didn’t even think.

Canada: It’s okay. It’s okay, I’m here now. Do you still need Sweden, or … can I do what you need?

Russia: You may.

Canada: And, uh… what was it Sweden would do for you? If - if I can help -

Russia: Ah… Like this.

_(the bed squeaks as two bodies are rearranged upon it)_

Canada: Wait, you’re saying, you and he -

Russia: It helps calm my mind, take my mind off things, redirects me -

Canada: He’s your lover!

Russia: - especially after such episodes. Oh, he is a great many things for me. But yes, that’s one of them. I like him better than Netherlands, Sweden is much warmer - you know, our Dutch friend is not the most nurturing of people - well. I am babbling. You of course do not have to.

Canada: N-no, I was just. Surprised.

_(the sound of a wet kiss, a pop as their lips separate)_

Canada: You don’t have to keep me at arm’s reach all the time. I thought - I could be like one of you.

_(Russia sighs)_

Canada: How… do you want it?

Russia: Like this, exactly like this.

Canada: You want me to -

Russia: Take charge. I am telling people what to do all the time, this time just - just tell me what to do, take care of me, I’m yours.

Canada: I can do that.

_(sound of kissing, and later sighing as both begin to enjoy themselves. One of them moans.)_

Canada: Ah… here, move these - spread your legs a bit.

Russia: Yes.

Canada: That’s good -

_(muffled sound of kissing and rustling of cloth)_

Canada: Mmmh - untuck this - you’re always so proper -

Russia: I - mmf, I - yes, there.

Canada: A-actually - can you maybe take this off for me?  _(more rustling of cloth as a garment is removed, and then a soft whump as it falls to the ground)_  Excellent.

Russia: You next.

Canada: Trust me, it’ll come off. Now get back here …

_(the kissing resumes, with greater gasps and sighs. The area being kissed is evidently not the mouth.)_

Russia: Ah… aah, yes… Wait! Not there!

Canada: Hm?

Russia: My neck, it is sensitive, not quite so -

Canada: ‘S fine by me. I can kiss elsewhere.

Russia:  _Ohh_  - that’s - can’t you get on with it? Why are you - mmm, why do you stall so much, I don’t - ah!

Canada: I thought you said you weren’t the one giving orders right now.

Russia: We-ell, I - I still…  _aah!_

_(the mattress squeaks under a sudden shift in weight, likely caused by someone arching their back suddenly)_

Canada: These are very sensitive, I take it?

Russia: Anh, y-yes - ah fuck -

Canada: Spread your legs a little more, I want to touch you.

Russia: The, ah, the drawstring, o-on the inside.

Canada: Not just yet. Think I’ll tease you through it first a bit. Can’t believe you’re wearing - don’t care, _don’t care_ …

Russia: Aagh, stop playing with me already!

Canada: Mmm, ask nicely.

Russia: If you intended to drive me crazy, it is working. I -  _aaah!!_  Don’t bite!

Canada: You don’t like it? Sure feels like you do -

Russia: Aa-ah…

Canada: Go on, ask nicely …

Russia: Please, touch me, please!

Canada: Was that so hard?

Russia, growling: It wasn’t but  _I am_ , now please will you stop teasing me?

Canada: Take these off for me.

Russia: Finally! Goodness.

_(mattress squeaks under Russia’s movements. Another soft whump as the pants hit the floor.)_

Canada: Now scoot up.

Russia: But… will you remain clothed?

Canada: Not for long.

Russia: Then…? […] No, that, you really do not have to!

Canada: I know. I want to. Besides, I thought you said I was calling the shots.

Russia: Well…

Canada: Then?

_(a sigh, then the mattress squeaks as Russia nudges up. Silence, then a moan.)_

Russia: Ah, god! Ye-esss …

_(a wetter sound, not unlike the sound of kissing, but of course Russia’s mouth is unoccupied)_

[…]

_(the sound stops abruptly)_

Canada: Hands above your head.

Russia: You don’t want I should touch you?

Canada: Not just yet. Hands up, by the pillow.

_(the wet sound resumes, along with Russia’s sighing and gasping.)_

Canada: Do you have anything?

Russia, breathily: I don’t need it.

Canada: It’ll hurt.

Russia: I’ve had worse!

Canada: Well good for you, I still don’t like it without lube!

Russia: Ah please, haven’t you tortured me enough? I need it -

Canada: Yeah? Then  _you_  can come prepared next time. […] Uh. Not that… not that I want you to have episodes like that on a regular basis -

Russia: If you don’t fuck me properly, I’m not sure there will be much in the way of next time!

Canada: You’re so demanding.

_(the wet sucking sound resumes, as do the mattress squeaking faintly and Russia’s moans, increasingly vocal and loud.)_

Russia: Please, pl- yes,  _yesss_ , oh, that’s so good, it’s so good, please […] Yes, just put it in, mmph! - ah, deeper! Aah… […] Harder, please - more, put a second one in. Yes, like that, like that, fuck me, fuck me, aa-ah, aa-aanh, ngh, mmmph, please, more -

Canada: God.

Russia: Ah, please! Don’t stop!

Canada, gasping: I’m not stopping. Hold on a sec. Just - touch us together, yeah, like that -

_(mattress squeaking rhythmically now with the weight of two bodies moving against one another, back and forth, again and again. Another sound of clothing falling to the floor.)_

Canada: Okay, now you can touch me. Mm, yeah … Here. Touch me here.

Russia: But… Even there?

Canada: Ah, especially here. Yeah - oh - what can I say, I like your hands on my neck - ah!

Russia: Yes, like this, you like this? Yes,  _oh_  - more - aah -

Canada: Ah - aah, mmf, fuck yeah, tighter, ungh, feel you next to me like that, fuck, I’m coming, I’m - y-yes - oh god yes!

_(the mattress springs grow quieter with one final squeak and a grunt from Canada as he collapses on the bed. Gasping and panting from both of them.)_

Canada, very quietly: Here, let me - I’ve got a handkerchief.

Russia: Ah… thank you…

_(A moment passes.)_

Canada: Are you okay now?

Russia: I am much better.

Canada: Then… can I ask a question?

Russia: Hmm! After what we just did, I am surprised you require permission.

Canada: Well, good, if you’re able to crack jokes, you must be in a decent mood… What did you mean by Latvia?

_(bed squeaks, shifting of clothing)_

Russia: Nnn- by what? When did I…?

Canada: Shortly before I re-woke.

Russia: Ah.

_(a heavy silence)_

Canada: You- you don’t have to tell me.

Russia: No, he … he was your friend too. I suppose you hated me for that reason alone for some time. I suppose you deserve to know. Well. Did you know he died in my arms?

Canada: You -

Russia: I did. You’re right. I did kill him.

_(another silence, but this one is significantly more awkward)_

Canada, gently: You… you uh, you weren’t the one who snapped his neck.

Russia, darkly: Oh, but I was.

Canada: Explain.

Russia: Those bombs took so many of his people there was no hope of return. When I found him he babbled and trembled and shook, he couldn’t keep down food or water, he coughed up blood, he was so ill. Never before had I seen one of us like that - it terrified me. I thought, it is probably the radiation, I will do him a favour - but when I did it, like with you, I strangled him, I - he didn’t return. He  _never came back_.

Canada: At least that much, you couldn’t’ve known.

Russia: So every time I do it I think back to it, I think back to holding him in my arms all afternoon and he never woke up. And I thought I would be happy because that was good land he had, a beautiful city, gem of the Baltic sea, some say prettiest in Europe - I myself would agree - he was  _beautiful_ , before he’d been bombed, even after in his trauma he was handsome, in a haunting, deadened way - and now he was finally mine, but all it did was make me miserable. And then, there was no Sweden to calm me, and certainly no Canada, no, you both hated me so much, everyone did, I have never felt so alone - there was no one else… After that … there was a time I didn’t care who lived or died. That’s one of the reasons I do this now, this entire place, why I have set it up, how much work I have invested in it, a lot of this is my own penance.

Canada: And the other reason?

Russia: Why, because it’s the right thing to do. Have I not told you so many times already?

Canada: And what about the method?

Russia: What do you mean?

Canada: Th-this place, this didn’t come about naturally, did it. It didn’t just spontaneously give birth to a communist society that is happy and shares everything. That’s always been your dream, though, hasn’t it? Children who play nice?

_(bed squeaks; a faint grunt from Russia as he turns over on his side and gets up)_

Canada: Be honest with me. You had to train people to do that. How’d you train them?

Russia: I did what I had to.

Canada: You killed them, didn’t you. Those that didn’t agree. That’s why you don’t care if they die, there’s always more of them -

Russia, enraged and roaring: I did what I had to!

Canada: Do you regret it?

Russia: It was. …It was the right thing. In the end, I did the right thing, for once! And now I am different, everything is better -

Canada: Russia, this is a dictatorship. Benevolent or not -

Russia: It is efficient. Of course it is. That’s what dictatorships are. You can’t eat freedom, you can’t power machinery with votes. I did what I had to. I did the right thing.

Canada: Russia -

Russia: If that’s all, we both have work. You may take the rest of the day if you feel you must, I understand you went through an ordeal - although so have I, and  _I’m_  going back to work - but perhaps you are still not used to this way of life, hm?

Canada: That’s not what I meant!

Russia: Oh? And what did you mean?

Canada: Y-you still don’t see me as one of you!

Russia: You have yet to prove that to me.

Canada: Maybe I’m not even sure I  _want_  to be!

_(shifting of clothing as Russia redresses. The door opens and slams. An awkward silence.)_

Canada: God  _dammit!_

_(a whump and a squeak as something, probably Canada’s fist, hits the mattress in anger)_

_(another silence)_

Canada: Oh christ this thing’s still on -

_(click)_

* * *

Well that went swimmingly.

* * *

Still can’t stop thinking about it.

Or him.

Or Latvia.

Or - Sweden.  _Sweden!_

If anybody knows him, Sweden would.

Talk to him in the morning. I need sleep.

* * *

Sweden has absolutely no desire to talk to me, apparently.

* * *

**— 13 Nov 2171 —**

Russia giving me side-long glances all throughout dinner. What have I gotten myself into.

* * *

**— 14 Nov 2171 —**

Finally talked to Sweden, who told me Russia had told him what happened between us.

Thought for sure Sweden was going to kill me. But I guess he’s cool with Russia sleeping around, because he was just happy that there would be someone to take care of him when Sweden leaves.

Which is a new thing! Apparently Sweden’s  _leaving!_  This is news to me, though I asked Netherlands and he snorted and was like, god you don’t catch on too quick, do you. And I’m like well nobody tells me anything, what do you think, and he’s, maybe you should learn to read between some lines.

Anyway, what’s more, Sweden finally talked. It’s as I suspected: Russia’s cracked much,  _much_  farther than he was before, and it’s because of this place. They started out with impossibly strict laws, trying to force people to do what he wanted, nobody starts out being okay with those, you have to slay people into submission.

There were some hard choices made.

Sweden says he estimates Russia slew an entire generation of humans and the first generation of the commune was ruled through fear.

Of  _course_  he’s nuts. He’s a fucking dictator.

I asked Sweden if he’d have made the same ones. Sweden said if he had, I wouldn’t recognise him. He thinks Russia made a sacrifice, because every man, woman, and child that lives here now is protected by him, is living because of him. It’s been three generations. I’m like how is that even possible, how long until this place isn’t big enough to hold everybody? And then people panic and have to be slaughtered into submission again?

Sweden says they’re already too big for this place. Shoulda broken off years ago. There’s preparations under way for a similar place in Toronto - about two, three hours away by zeppelin. It’s the closest subway system, the closest place you could have an underground city. I guess after that it’ll be New York.

I wonder if America’ll even notice. Well, it’s a ways off yet.

Apparently this was half the reason Belgium came down here. She came - says Sweden - not because Netherlands asked her to, but because Sweden did.

I don’t know when they intend to split the people. I don’t know that the Toronto subway’s ready yet. I told him I’d be happy to set up hydroponics there.

Anyway, when Sweden said he’s glad, because it means there’ll be someone to take care of Russia when he’s gone? I think he means me. I think he means that he thinks I’m staying forever.

But at the same time… I don’t … what would I do on the Fleet? These people need me.

Apparently Russia needs me.

Apparently - according to Sweden - he needs me a lot.

What was I doing on the Margaret that couldn’t be done by anybody else?

* * *

But they’re  _my_  people!

I need them more than they need me. I don’t  _survive_  without them! They get reabsorbed into another ship, they’d become their people, and two generations from now, I’m gone!

I don’t care what Sweden wants, I’m not leaving my people!

* * *

But they can’t come down here.

* * *

**— 16 Nov 2171 —**

Belarus gives me big bright smiles every time she sees me now. Says she is so glad I am with them now and if I am considering staying because there is a lot of room in stations Snowdon through Outremont for all of my citizens if I would like.

I swear this place is conspiring against me.

* * *

**— 18 Nov 2171 —**

Now that I think of it, this isn’t the only place with strict laws.

This isn’t the only place partially - or entirely - governed by the hand of a nation who’s lost many, many people.

* * *

But if Russia’s this bad…

America’s lost just as many.

He just didn’t execute them himself.

* * *

I’m pretty sure he didn’t execute anybody.

* * *

Except. He  _is_  the one putting people low altitude in the Fleet and keeping them there. And we started with a little over a hundred nations, we’re down to maybe what, fifty? It was seventy when I was radar and nav, that was over half a century ago. I thought we’d stabilised. I don’t remember the exact numbers but we lost Sweden, and Netherlands, and Belgium, and the rest  _we never heard about_. I never knew they weren’t in the Fleet until I came down here!

America volunteered himself for attendance-taking. We were just taking his word.

So do I take his word that he’s never done anything as bad as Russia?

But he has! He bombed the shit out of others too! We  _know_  he did! So it’s okay just ‘cause what, ‘cause he’s my brother? ‘Cause he didn’t do it first?

* * *

Y-you have to understand, I don’t blame him for what he did -

\- he did what he had to -

\- but if I don’t blame him, then how can I blame Russia??

And if Russia’s cracked from this, how can I be so sure America is sane?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Russia sings in this part is [Tam za Tumamani](http://russmus.net/song/800) by Lyube. The lyrics in question mean, roughly:  
> “Waves whisper, sigh and sing  
> But they don’t understand, it’s strange, they don’t understand…  
> Beyond the mists, always drunken,  
> Beyond the mists, they love and wait for us  
> Sevastopol waits, as does Komchatka and Kronshtadt  
> Our motherland believes in her sons and awaits them.  
> Beyond the mists, always drunken,  
> Beyond the mists, their wives don’t sleep.”
> 
> This song is less metaphorical than the other. I like it, and the melody is beautiful, but the band has in recent years had political associations.


	3. Chapter 3

part three

* * *

**— 28 Nov 2171 —**

Russia’s asked Romania to get the aspirin. Told Netherlands to take care of the greenhouses for me until I get back.

The Seaborg should have enough, the Margaret’s been delivering pharmaceuticals there once every two weeks for redistribution in the lowest sectors, and if they’re still on schedule - and they should be - then we’ll meet up with them over what used to be England.

The Seaborg, of course, is that ship of America’s that he sent to the lowest altitudes to scout for pirates. And, if what Estonia was saying can be believed,  _police_  the lowest altitude Fleet ships.

Romania intended to rob them blind, but I convinced him - well, I convinced Russia, who convinced him - that we’ll try asking first. See what that gives us. Romania thinks we’re total morons, Russia thinks I’m naive, but at least this way we’ll get to talk to America.

He’s my brother. He has to give me something if I ask nicely, doesn’t he?

And I have to know if a madman controls the Fleet.

* * *

**— 30 Nov 2171 —**

Romania’s piloting. Leaves Russia and I for pirate duty. Russia’s up there now in the cockpit; I’m on auxiliary observation outpost at the stern. Pretty tiny and cramped here - there’s maybe room for two people. I think there was a stool here once, but whatever we don’t need, we don’t take. Have to be concerned of weight limitations. Reminds me of seventy years ago when we couldn’t just assume a near-infinite supply of hydrogen.

Speaking of which, we should probably see if America will give us some of that.

We don’t have any people. It won’t take us very long to get what we need, even though it’s just we three, but taking only us tells me Russia has limited expectations for success, in addition to weight constraints.

God, I’m really not keen on these windows, I know it’s an observation post but I feel like I’m standing in a fishbowl suspended over the air. Once we get high enough it’ll all look so small I won’t be nervous.

This thing is solid, right?

_(a series of loud ominous sounding bangs and rumbles)_

Okay, seriously,  _can_  Romania fly? I’m gonna check in, this doesn’t sound good.

* * *

…so apparently this is a rebuilt version of one of the ships that fell. Class-12, I’m trying to remember which of us had a class-12 before they fell, I think there was Bangladesh, maybe Ethiopia’s - anyway. Surprised it was so badly destroyed - I know England said there was a crash but Belgium’s ship was almost entirely intact and that crashed too, didn’t it? And it was a Germany original after all, he builds things to last, even if Russia tinkers with them.

It’s been awhile since I’ve been on a class-12. There’s not nearly as much room to move around here, two decks below the hydrogen cells that line the inside of the balloon in parallel sets. The engine’s at the back, and the entire ship lurched unpleasantly when we took off.

Well, class-12 was always one of Germany’s works in progress…

I wonder if I could get Russia a slightly safer ship. I think that -  _(a knock)_  hm, that’s probably him now - _(another more insistent knock)_  - I’m coming, jeez!

* * *

_(sound of Canada setting the recorder on a flat surface. A door opens)_

Russia: Who are you talking to?

Canada: Uh - n-nobody. Hey - there’s, there’s not enough room in here for two!

Russia: We will make room.

Canada: Fine.

Russia: Are you afraid of heights?

Canada: I wasn’t until I got put on the aux observation post. This is … there’s no bottom here. It’s just a glass panel. Didn’t someone think that’d be a bad idea?

Russia: On the contrary! It is quite useful to be able to look down and see what is directly below you.

Canada: Uh-huh.

Russia: That is why it is glass all over.

Canada: Right.

Russia: Hmm… if you’re scared you can hang on to me!

Canada: I’m not scared! It’s just a little uncomfortable, that’s all. Whose ship is this, anyway? I thought Sweden left his in the Fleet and Belgium’s was a zippier thing, class-19c maybe?

Russia: It is Japan’s, of course.  _(the sound of a kiss)_

Canada: J-Japan’s?? I can’t believe you put it back in the air -

Russia, slightly muffled: Yes, well, piracy is a business born of desperation. And it is just like the water, you know, Japan is not using it anymore, so …

Canada: Why are you doing this now?

Russia: You need distracting. And I want to.

Canada: I d-don’t, we have, ah- business to take care of - mmm…

Russia: You say you do not like, but I don’t believe it! This -  _(Canada moans)_  - this tells me you like it. I want you to like it. I like  _you_ , I want you to stay.

Canada: Ah… a-and Sweden?

Russia: Oh, I like Sweden too, I like him lots.

Canada: But then -

Russia: If you are staying, then Sweden will leave. This was the plan. He intended to leave years ago - I think he has told you already, yes?

Canada, sighing: Yeah…

Russia: But there was nobody to take his place by my side. Others - the Netherlands, for example, ah, bless him, he tries, but he does not understand what I need.

Canada: Mmm, don’t stop, that’s - yeah…

Russia: I think he knows I’m mad. Maybe he worries it’s catching. You though, I think… I think you need to be needed, yes?

_(slow shift of clothing as the sound of someone getting on their knees)_

Canada: Ah… Russia, jeez -

Russia: And I need you. I need this.  _(the sound of someone untying a knot, shifting material as pants are pulled down)_  And if you stay, then everybody gets what they want, don’t they?

Canada: I have people up above…

Russia: So bring them down.

Canada: I can’t just - mm, can’t just make a decision like that for them.

Russia: I am not afraid to resort to dirty tricks to get what I want.

Canada: Aah! God, I -

Russia: Yes?

Canada: Fuck, yes…

_(for a long while there is no sound besides the sound of increasingly laboured breathing and the occasional wet sound of something being sucked)_

Canada: Mmm…. Oh, fuck, that’s - ngh, god. Yeah, there, please, please don’t  _stop_ , Ah, yeah, yeah - a-ah!

_(the sound of a clothing shifting and someone getting to their feet)_

Canada, breathily: Did you - want…?

Russia: Later. You will owe me one later tonight, yes?

Canada: Uh, about later -

_(the sound of a wet kiss. Two sets of laboured breathing; a moan.)_

Russia: So, later?

Canada: Uh, yeah…

_(static crackling)_

Romania, crackling as though his voice is coming through a radio: Hey if you guys could maybe finish up in there, I give it another fifteen minutes ‘til we’ll intercept.

Russia: Ah. I should ask him - I will be right back.

Canada: Ye-eah, okay. I’ll see you in a bit.

_(sound of a door opening, then closing. Canada sighs, then suddenly -)_

Canada: Goddamn, this thing again -!

_(click)_

* * *

Okay, now I  _really_  feel like I joined the mile high club.

On the upside, haven’t questioned Romania’s flying skills for a whole twenty minutes, so there’s that.

* * *

Coming up on the Seaborg. Hailing her now.

* * *

Seaborg isn’t responding to hails. I’m going to try giving her the Margaret’s keycodes…

* * *

Stupid bugger. He’s not responding!

That must be America inside. Only he ever knew what ships were where - ‘cause he’s the one who told them where to go - only he’d have the ability to tell whether or not this even was the right ship.

Well, him and England.

\- England! Jesus!!

If anybody should know about all of this, he should! And  _Belgium_  - I - shit, receive, receive signal dammit -

* * *

_(sound of the recorder being set on wood)_

Canada: Pick up, pick up - yes, who is this?

America: Roger, this is the - wait - … _Canada?_

Canada: I said this was the Margaret, didn’t I? Do you think I’m a liar?

America: I-I’ve got your ship in range and visual view. That’s a class-12! Your Margaret is state of the art class-21A!

Canada: Crew of the Margaret, then. A rose by any other name, right?

America: Uh… sure. Listen, what’re you doing down here? This is way too low for you. Is that thing hulled properly?

Canada: I need to talk to you.

America: Okay, so I’ll call a meeting -

Canada: No, I need to talk to you right now. I think you’re going to want it to be between us. Maybe… can we set these down someplace? This is England, I think? That’s New London Tower bearing thirty degrees north north-east, it’s got a landing pad.

America: Canada … you’re my brother, but -

Canada: I’m your brother, and you’re doing this.

America: Look, I really -

Canada: It’s not up for discussion!

America, sighing: I - geez… Y’know what, fine, we’ll meet.

Russia: Tell him you’re bringing friends.

America: Wh-who’s that?

Canada: Hey, when did you get here?

Russia: I sent down a message to aux observation five minutes ago. You did not respond, so I came to check that Romania did not accidentally knock a mountain and gash the hull around this end.

America: You’ve gotta be kidding me. Th-that’s not who I think it is.

Canada: Meet me on the top of the tower and see. Canada out.

_(pops and clicks as Canada disconnects)_

Russia: He’s still trying to contact you.

Canada: Good. Let him stew on it.

Russia: We will be there in approximately four minutes - we should meet with Romania briefly first.

Canada, darkly: Can we give him flying lessons? Oh - just let me -

_(sound of the recorder being picked up and put in a pocket)_

Russia: That thing again - what is that?

Canada: It’s a recorder. Something tells me I might need a copy of what America says.

Russia: Hm! You may be right. Well. Shall we?

Canada: After you.

_(sound of a door opening, then closing, then footsteps)_

Russia: Just one moment.

Canada: What’s in here?

_(sound of a door opening)_

Russia: In case your brother is not as forthright as you say he may be.

Canada: Uh. Wow. That’s … a lot of guns.

Russia: May I suggest something that looks impressive and fires decently? I like this one myself.

_(Canada breathes a deep sigh. Sound of someone picking up a gun, a click of the safety, and tucking it into their waistband.)_

_(sound of a door closing, then footsteps. Finally, the sound of another door opening)_

Romania: Hey! You guys’re back.

Russia: If you could set us down over there - yes, that’s a good place. Perhaps you could consider using the landing gear this time!

Romania: It’s your fault it stuck in the first place. How long’ll you be?

Russia: Depends entirely. Will you have eyes on us?

Romania: It’s a small gangplank, but cloud cover’s pretty thick. If you go more than 100 yards I might not be able to see you.

Canada: Here, I’ll take one of these.  _(Canada picks up something heavy and blocky-sounding)_  You can listen in on this radio. If it all goes bad, come after us? Use your judgment.

Romania: Speaking of, you should probably pick up something from the armory on deck two -

Russia: Yes, we have done that already.

Romania: Oh! Good. Whadja pick? […] Ooh, I like that one. Good choice.

Canada: Uh, thanks. Alright, keep us posted.

Romania: Best of luck. Oh, and if you happen to need that, by the way? Aim for the head. I’ve found it gives you a good solid fifteen minutes on one of us before reintegration.

Canada: You’ve fou- okay. You know what, I just don’t ask questions anymore.

Romania: That’s wise. Toodles.

_(a door closes. Footsteps walking away. Another door opens to the instant sound of rushing wind. Sound of some adjustments, along with the shifting of cloth, before anything clearer can be heard)_

Russia: Hm! Here he comes now.

Canada:  _Wow_  he looks pissed.

Russia: You can still breathe in hazmat suits, yes? He looks quite purple.

America: Bro, what the fuck! Where have you been?! I didn’t even know you were missing! England said the Margaret - but you’re here! And  _he_  had no clue either! This is the first I’ve heard of it! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me - do you have any idea what it does to the ships to go to the surface,  _any_ idea? And your people onboard, you could’ve had a thought for them!?

Canada: The Margaret is exactly where I left it.

America: With no commander! I’m gonna have to take it under with mine -

Canada: You’ll do no such thing! I’ll have you know I’ve got people watching it.

America: People you - do you have  _humans_  at the wheel? God,  _Can_ a _daaa!_

Canada: They’re people I trust! I-it’s already been commanded by humans for the past five months now and you haven’t noticed anything!

America: And you, asshole! I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing alive but the least y’coulda done was provide him with the proper protective equipment?? At this height! Bro, you’re gonna get sick - you know what, that’s probably his plan all along. Don’t you even remember how terrible it is to die of radiation sickness?

Canada: It’s nothing I haven’t had before. In fact, I’m kinda getting used to it.

_(Russia coughs)_

Canada: Ah, right. I forgot to mention, we actually do have business here.

America: No way, I don’t do business with people like him. I thought we’d wiped your sorry ass off the face of the earth!

Canada: You’ll do business with me. There’s a shipment of meds the Margaret would’ve sent you maybe three days ago? I need it.

America: Uh, excuse you, so do Fleet ships.

Canada: But… we need it more. Please, America.

America: Yeah, no, I don’t think so. If he wants meds, he’s on his own. He lost the protection of the Fleet years ago and if he’s been going 60 years without it he hasn’t needed our help so he can just fuck right off. Asshole can’t just take my brother and pretend like he’s one of us! I’m not doing anything for pirates who left us in the first place.

Romania, crackling through the radio: Sure he does, he does it all the time! Go on and ask him.

Canada: Really. What else are you hiding from me?

America: What am - I’m not hiding anything from you!

Romania, crackling through the radio: He knows we need help, we’ve been raiding the twenty years I’ve been there, at least, I’ve even seen his face at a few! Now, granted, he did tell me not to take anything from anybody a certain distance high and climbing, and it was probably my fault I didn’t realise some of them dip down periodically, that’s why we found Norway - and hoo boy, Norway -!

Canada: That’s enough.

Romania, through the radio: I’m just saying.

America: What do you mean, ‘that’s enough’?

Canada: I’m - I wasn’t talking to you! But you knew all about the pirates, don’t you! Because that’s what Romania’s saying. You knew and you lied!

America: Rom- Romania’s dead!

Romania, through the radio: Am I, though? He knows I’m alive.

America: He’s dead  _to me!_  He left the Fleet years ago! He left! Th-that was his choice! That’s what - that’s what. Th-that’s what comes to people who l-leave the Fleet, Canada. […]  _(America clears his throat)_  I’m fine, I’m fine. […] Anyway! I’m not negociating with pirates, ‘specially not ones who were stupid enough to get themselves caught.

Romania: I heard that.

Canada: So negotiate with me.

America: You’re  _with_  them! You, my own brother, you’re  _with_  them! What do you think that’s doing to me, huh? Huh?

Canada: Y-you’re right, I’m your brother, I’ll always -

America: N-no, you’re either with me or you’re with th- the- them, you, you can’t. You can’t be both, ‘s not how it works.

Canada: America, are you okay? You don’t look so good, you’re kinda pale -

America: I’m fine! I’m fine, okay I’m fine! Super! B-but you can’t leave, alright? And h-he’s not getting any goddamn meds - no, shut up, I don’t care if he needs them - he’s not getting anything of mine!

Russia: Maybe this is different! Maybe we just want to pillage because we hate you so much. Us versus them, isn’t it? Isn’t that how you like to play?

Canada: Russia - look, you’re not helping -

Romania, through the radio: Ask him about Japan. Go on. Ask him.

Canada: I already know about Japan!

America: A-about … about who? Hahaha - I d-don’t know what you’re talking about! C-Cana- I told you e-everything you need to know, about, a-about him. […] No, shut up! G-get out of my head!

Romania, through the radio: You don’t know  _everything_. You said it yourself, he likes to hide things from people.

Canada: America, what happened to Japan?

America: No… Noooo I can’t, can’t, please, Canada, please, you’re my brother, don’t make me say it -

Canada: Just tell me what happened, okay? Then we’ll leave - you don’t need to give us anything -

America: No!! No! You’re not allowed to leave me! He’s not allowed, m-make him stay make him stay make him stay - no not you I didn’t mean you!! -

Russia: We need that medicine!

Canada: Leave it to me!

Russia: Fine! Screw things up, see if I care!

Romania, through the radio: Ask him. Tell him you’re gonna leave, just like Japan did. Just like I did, when  _we found out about Russia!_

Canada: Tell me what happened, America.

America: No, no… he wants to know, I can’t tell him, can’t tell you, it’s my biggest failure -

Canada: Tell the truth. I’m starting to be able to tell when you lie.

America: I couldn’t make him s-st-stay, h-he said he didn’t, didn’t like it anymore, didn’t like the system, didn’t like how it all worked, saw wh-what Russia was up to - and he wasn’t all that low, and he would’ve come right back up, y’know, I could’ve swung it, f-for him, I could’ve gotten him back up, if he’d just ignore what he’d seen, pretend it hadn’t happened, I asked him if he wanted to live with me for awhile, but he couldn’t do that, with his people down below, then he said he changed the name of the ship, meant something about betrayal, he didn’t believe this was right anymore, with them on the ground, h-he had to help, s-said Russia was, Russia was  _killing off his own people_  ‘cause they wouldn’t play nice, he had to do something to make him stop - he said he wanted to leave! He wanted to leave - […] yeah, that’s what you said, that’s exactly how you said it! […] Don’t you talk back to me, man! […] Yeah, you wanted to leave me, and I wasn’t gonna let you! […] No, no that’s not how it happened, I’d never sh-shoot you down, I don’t know what you’re talking about - y-you’re my best friend! That’s not how it happened, not it, not it - I, I, didn’t mean to, my finger slipped - Japan, goddammit, stop saying that!

_(sounds of someone bursting into tears. Footsteps.)_

Canada: America, shh- it’s me.

America: You can’t leave! This is what happens when people leave!

Russia: You do not seriously believe this, do you? These histrionics? He’s trying to make you stay!

Canada: He’s just like you, don’t you have your triggers?

Russia: He is nothing like me! Is one thing to profit from my demise - and I am not so sure he did not have a hand in that either! But we hated each other and that is how war works -  _they_  were  _friends!_  He shot down his friend’s ship and left him and his people to die!

America, sobbing: I swear I didn’t, I didn’t -

Canada: Shhh, it’s okay… shh…

America: You can’t leave, you can’t leave, you’re my brother, I’ll die if you leave, you can’t leave me.

Canada: It’s okay, I’m here.

Russia: But you can’t leave  _me!_

Canada: Russia -

Russia: One little episode, and, and you are completely on his side now? So all I have to do is have a nervous breakdown right here and you come running back? Is good to know!

Canada: Don’t be like this, look at him!

_(sobbing sound intensifies)_

Russia: Oh, I am unmoved! He did this to himself, he’s the one who hacked together a barebones solution, so that it was just like what we had before the war! The poor get poorer, the rich get more powerful! I’m the one who  _worked hard_  to make it all happen when he sabotaged my ship, and now we have a system, everything works well and  _I_  found the better solution, is utopia, everybody shares and plays nice and is all equal, it’s perfect -

Romania: I have to hand it to him, despite everything this crazy nutball did, he’s right about that. It actually works. People died so that it did but it works now.

Canada: I can’t leave him, he needs me!

Russia:  _I_  need you! I  _deserve_  you!

Canada: You have Sweden!

Russia: Sweden is leaving, we need this to continue, we need another place, we can’t last forever in that small space -

Canada: So I’ll, I’ll get a mining ship, you guys can come to me whenever you need anything, we’ll have as much medicine as you need -

Russia: All my work, and who comes for me?

Canada: I’ll come whenever you need me to. Call me and I’ll come.

Russia, fretfully: Don’t you get it? He won’t let you leave. He’ll selfishly keep you so he doesn’t go mad because he doesn’t care about me, he  _wants me to fail_. He thinks it can’t happen, that I always mess up good things. He is waiting for that day.

Romania, through the radio: He’s right.

Canada: This is not why I told you to listen in!

Romania, through the radio: I’m serious! He won’t let you leave permanently. Because he doesn’t let people lone wolf it in this world! That’s how the Fleet works - no countries, one fleet, unity. If they have separate fleets then it’s back to international politics! That’s why he shot down Japan! And that’s why he tried to shoot down me!

Canada: Then I’ll have to stay!

America: Good!

Russia: No!

Canada: What do you expect?! I need my people too! I have to make sure they’re okay -

Russia: You can’t!

Canada: And why not?

Russia: Because - because - because  _you drank the water from Dorobylov!_

Canada: You - what?

America: I told you. I told you you can’t trust him.

Russia: Didn’t you wonder? Why they died so easily? From what, a simple exchange of ships? Is true, yes, the radiation - but at that level, so far underneath the clouds, there is not much, just the ground. Less and less in the ground with each passing year. But still nobody can leave without protection, because extended exposure to the UV would hurt them. Maybe even kill them! And we don’t have an ozone anymore, so…

Canada: How … ?

America: It passes  _through_  the clouds, the higher energy stuff passes through - give yourself tumours with a ten minute walk, to say nothing of the air -

Russia: Belarus works with Peru for filtration, and Peru’s our medication specialist. Air is fine, water is fine, even the ground is not terribly dangerous. But he is the one who monitors vitamin levels, making sure everybody is still healthy with no sunlight, making sure our immune systems still work, we put it all in the water - but he has found a nasty side effect on the skin, you can’t so easily tolerate the sunlight, the kind that would tan you, the kind that will burn you, and it’s so much worse now after the bombs! Burns and skin cancer. And heavier particles the atmosphere would have stopped easily, two hundred years ago! I give it twenty minutes. Why do you think I said no humans with us today? Hmm? Is too dangerous!

Romania, through the radio: You told me to wait here.

Russia: And that’s why I did. You’re always indoors. You don’t even notice it. But you, Canada - just try getting back onto your ships with your biodomes! Does that glass stop harmful light and radiation? It can’t! Not without stopping all light, no, and you need that to grow your little garden! Don’t you? So you’ll get sicker and sicker, the more time you spend in the sunlight. Even with protection, I’m burning. You feel it too, don’t you? You have to come back because I have to help you get better!

Canada: You poisoned me. You poisoned me, and everybody else in that commune, they’re -

Russia: It couldn’t be helped! We’re working on it, but you know, these things don’t happen overnight! And in the meantime, we need to stay inside, we don’t have any medicine to work with -

America: You see? It’s dangerous down here!

Canada: It’s dangerous up there! You’re more susceptible to radiation, and they’re not! Look! Look at it, America.

America: That’s - your radiation badge -

Canada:  _It was white._  I spent four months in there and it was white. Whatever filtration they have - well, why am I surprised, Belarus is a genius - and now look at it! This is just from talking to you now!

America: God, we gotta get you into a hazmat suit - y’know what, take mine, I don’t - you’re my brother, I’ll save you first -

_(squeaks of rubbery, vinyl material as America removes the headpiece to the hazmat suit)_

America, much more clearly without the protective equipment: Here - take it. Please!

Russia: Don’t listen to him! How can you listen to him!?

Canada: You fed me water that - that - I thought you said there were no forbidden topics!

Russia: Well, you never asked! If you had I would not have lied, I would never have lied to you.

Canada: It doesn’t matter. I need to secure my ships. Or one of these days that’ll be it, and I’ll die - of some kind of radiation,  _either_  kind, you  _both_  poison me!

Russia: You can’t leave me!

_(A sound of rushing wind increases slowly)_

Canada:  _Six months!_

Russia: What?

America: No!

Romania, through the radio: Are you guys cutting out?

Canada: Six months, and that’s my final offer. Six months with  _you_ , and six months with  _you_. That’s how it’s going to work.

America: Canada, you  _can’t_  - the radiation -

Russia: The sunlight! - half a year, what will I do without you?!

Canada: You’ve got Netherlands if stuff goes bad -

Russia: I  _hate_  Netherlands!

Romania, through the radio: No he doesn’t.

Canada: You do not.

America: What the-

Canada: That’s the Aslan’s largest transporter!

_(The rushing sound grows to a crescendo and then stops abruptly. There’s a faint rumble and someone - either America or Canada - asks, did you feel that? The sound of a high-pitched whine, falling in tone, like a great machine has turned off and exhaust leaves its system.)_

Russia: Does it have missiles?

Canada: Of course it doesn’t have missiles, we don’t build ship-to-ship armaments -

America: It can fire four torpedoes at a time.

Romania, through the radio: It can  _what now??_

Canada: He’s lying -

America: Try me, Russkie. I’ll shoot you out of the sky. I’ll do it again.

_(Sound of a door slam and stomping feet. England’s voice slowly becomes louder and louder as he approaches the tableau)_

England: …can’t believe you’re here, this place looks wretched, it’s a wonder the building hasn’t fallen down - what are you thinking setting on it? And after all this it’s just your brother, tell me I’ve not brought weapons to a fraternal  _spat_ , because goodness knows -

Canada: At least he has his hazmat suit.

Russia: Yes, and a  _gun_  I see.

Canada: America did tell him we were pirates.

America: What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be up at fifty thousand feet!

England: I’ve been trying to hail you for over ten minutes! You set down, saying you’re going to check out something strange, and don’t resurface for half an hour? Good lord, I thought you’d been taken by our recent pirate problem!

America: I kinda was.

Canada:  _Recent_  pirate problem! Nobody knows anything, do they?

England: Tell me I’m imagining him. And you, what’re you doing off the Margaret? When America told me I could hardly believe it - I expected better of you! With no suit on!

Canada: I’ll tell you later -

America: He’ll tell you nothing, because he’s  _crazy_  and thinks he’s going to leave the Fleet.

England: What nonsense! Where else would you go!?

Canada: I -

America: He thinks he’s gonna go live with Russia who’s the goddamn leader of a mutant gang of sky pirates!

Romania, through the radio: Excuse him, I’ll have you know I really like my third leg.

Russia: Nobody thinks you’re funny.

Romania, through the radio:  _I_  think I’m funny.

America: England, tell him he’s insane!

Canada: I’m not insane! England, I know what I’m doing!

England: Have you even  _considered_  your people?

Canada: Of course I have! That’s why it would only be for six months!

America: I keep trying to tell him the same thing!

Canada: And you! You’ve still got the entire rest of the Fleet, you don’t even notice some people not showing up for meetings, can’t you pretend I’m one of the truants?

America: It’s different! He doesn’t need you like I do!

Russia: Don’t you think so? I need you more!

Canada: Six months, that’s all!

Romania, through the radio: Canada, it won’t work!

Canada: Well  _you_  sleep with him, then.

America:  _Sleep_  with -!

England: Who are you -

Romania, through the radio: No way, he’s crazy!

England: Is that …Romania?!

America: See? He’s crazy! Even Romania thinks so. I told you!  _And you’re sleeping with him_  - god, Canada!

Romania, through the radio: You shut your mouth. He’s crazy alright, but he’s on the right side, and these are dark days. And I’d follow him through ‘em!

England: Oi, what’re you doing off the Doina?

Canada: The Doina hasn’t been in the Fleet for twenty years! Did you know that?

England: Wha- of course it has!

Romania, through the radio: It hasn’t. I left twenty years ago, England. You can check America’s logs. If he gives you access, that is.

America: Don’t you see what he’s doing? It’s all part of Russia’s plan! He’s trying to steal Fleet people, good, honest people, to fuel a holy war between us! He’s got this us against them attitude that’s never died! Not even after the Scorching! And people follow him with this blind faith without knowing how crazy he is - they steal and pirate because they think they’re righteous -

Romania, through the radio: We  _are_  righteous! We don’t withhold goods from people who  _need_  them more!

Canada: Nobody knows how crazy  _you_  are - you’re still upset about Japan -

America: And you are  _sleeping with him!!_  Oh my god, you are in fucking love with the guy who destroyed the planet.

Canada and Russia, simultaneously: I’m  _not_  in love with him! / You helped, you started it!

America: I can’t let you live with him, Canada. Not for six months, not for  _any_  months. That man wants to start World War Four.

Canada:  _All the more reason_  you need a go-between. Because you won’t talk to him, you won’t give him anything - so you say, you seem to look the other way when the pirates come a-calling unless it’s someone who would jeopardise the shaky balance you’ve so carefully struck, you’re lying to your Fleet and hiding things from them and moving people around who say things you don’t like!

England: He does  _what?_

America: I don’t have a choice! Canada, I have a status quo to maintain, these people - these people need me, they need me they need me, they need this, this, this, flying mecca - […] I know, I’m tellin’ him! Shut up, go away - we have a stock exchange, we, we, we have currency, we have a multi-party political system, we have electricity and internet - we even have the press so you know I’m not hiding anything - haha! - e-everything’s like how it was before! Th-that’s good! I-isn’t that good?

England: America, lad…

Canada: It could be better.

America: What are you suggesting, we do what he does?

Canada: We could start? He’s got a place he’s set up underground, it produces food, water, and shelter for thousands of people, it’s self-sustaining and everybody’s provided for, and nobody has to be silenced, none of this yesman bullshit that half the nations give you!

America: You think it’s about freedom of speech?

Canada: No, it’s - th-that’s not all of it! You, you just cobbled together whatever was most like what we had, but he’s actually taken this as an opportunity to change things. And he doesn’t have people to do his dirty work for him, he’s the one helping the sick -

America: Yeah, that’s why they’re sick, just lookit you!

Canada: - he organises everything, I’ve never seen him work so hard and he works a hell of a lot harder than you do and they love him, America, they love him for it, they worship him, because he made it work, how could they not?

America: And what’d he have to do to make it all work? Hm? You don’t make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.

_(Some silence.)_

Canada: At least he acknowledges what he’s done when asked, he doesn’t lie about it. You cover everything up. I know, he’s not perfect. I don’t claim the ends justify the means. You know me - I would never - but in the end, these are dark days and he’s doing the right thing -

America: Oh, my god. You’re deluded! You should listen  _to yourself_  sometime.

Canada: I wouldn’t leave the Fleet! I won’t leave you, America - does it count for nothing that I’m your brother?

America: Then start acting like it! I’m through here - give me that -

England: Don’t -

Canada:  _No!!_

_(Sound of a pistol going off, and a body falling to the ground. Silence.)_

Russia: Arrgh -

Canada: You’re hit - don’t move -

Russia: My sides - ungh -

England: You… just…  _shot him!!_

America: He deserved it. You won’t take my brother from me!

Romania, through the radio: Uh, guys?

Canada: That’s it. That is  _it._

_(Sound of a gun going off, and another body falling to the ground.)_

Romania, through the radio: Someone tell me what’s going on.

England: I have America’s  _brains all over my chest_  is what’s going on!

Canada: Oh save your breath, he’ll be fine in fifteen minutes. C’mon, we need to move fast - I’ll tell you later -

_(a pained groan, shifting of clothing as a large heavy body-like mass is lifted)_

Canada, now grunting, under the weight of a heavy load: But for now, you need to take me back to the Margaret.

Russia: You’re… you can’t… please, I beg you!

Canada: For now, I have to. I have to arrange things, someone has to work this out, it’ll take me a month -

Russia: What will I do?

Canada: You’ll be fine. C’mon. Romania, I’m bringing him back, if you can get the doors of the Sanjō-ga-take open. Get yourself into cover, I don’t want you hurt -

Romania, through the radio: Right.

England:  _T-that’s_  the - goodness - I thought I’d never see that thing in the air again.

Canada: Give me five minutes, you  _won’t_  see it again.

England: You’re not seriously flying it out of here.

Canada: They don’t have anything else!

_(A rumbling sound grows. First a faint sound, which steadily increases much louder)_

Canada: What the -

Russia: Please, just put me down - arrgh! -

Romania, through the radio: Guys, this thing is shaking like mad, I’m not sure I can get the push to get her off the gangplank. What’s going on, what do we do?

England: This tower’s over hundred years old, it’s been bombed, it’s been attacked - you seriously think it could handle the weight of one ship, much less three?

Canada: We didn’t have much choice! Get to the Sanjō - Romania, we’re coming, hold on -

England: You’re not going anywhere!

Canada: We’ll all die!

England: Take the Seaborg! It’s unmanned - America was the only crewmember upon it. He doesn’t trust any of his people at this level in the sky - and quite rightly so!

Canada: What about America?

England: You splattered his head all over my chest, he’s not flying anything.

Canada: I mean later.

England: I’ll take him with me. He’ll get something from Germany, I’m sure.

Romania, through the radio: What about the Sanjō?

England:  _That_  bloody tincan should’ve died with Japan. After all, he died inside it. And not like this, I mean he  _died_. Do the rest of you treat that so lightheartedly that when it truly happens, it’s still a matter of levity? Is it not about time we start respecting one another?

_(another loud rumble)_

Canada: Romania, c’mon out.

Romania, through the radio: I don’t have any protection! And  _apparently_  I’ll die in twenty minutes -

Canada: It will not take you twenty minutes to run a gangplank, and you get a sweet new ride out of it. Get out here!

Russia: Is - ughh - is not a bad idea - would be worth it -

Romania, through the radio: Okay, okay, if you say so. I’m coming.  _(A clicking sound as though hanging up a telephone.)_

Canada: Shh, just - hold on -

Russia: No, it… fades - please -

Canada: C’mon, c’mon, you’ll be fine - Russia -

Russia, wheezing: I would -

_(A spurt of wet, sickly coughs that turn into choking, airless sounds, prolonged for a moment until abruptly they are cut off.)_

Canada: Alright, at least there’s that. I don’t know how long we have before he wakes.

Romania, who can now be heard clearly: Hey - wow. I see I have  _amazing_  timing.

Canada: Can you take him and get to the Seaborg? The building’s going to collapse, I know he’s heavy but maybe if I hel-

_(There is a heavy static crackling sound along with a low-frequency drone sound. Nothing else can be heard for the next three minutes.)_

England: - don’t know how he still has magic ability, I lost mine years ago.

Canada: But Norway still has trolls -

England: And I still catch the tail end of pixies here and there, yes. But neither of us has been able to  _do_ anything fancier for some time now. I thought perhaps it’s the radiation.

Canada: Good way to test that. Spend some time on the ground. Just, uh. Don’t eat or drink anything.

_(The rumbling sound returns again, followed by the sound of an airship starting up, heard from inside another airship, some distance away. The Seaborg is taking off.)_

England: - anyway, it’s something we can meditate on later, let’s get us out of here!

_(Sounds of an airship starting up from inside the same airship. The Aslan is taking off. Beeps and whirrs. England muttering to himself, ignition secondary, ignition primary, fuel low, must mention that, think we’ve enough…)_

_(More rumbles, paired with the deafening sounds of breaking glass, creaks and squeals.)_

Canada: England, the tower is falling, we have to go, now!

England: Hang on!

_(A loud warning beeping begins, followed by two more sirens. Sounds of switches being flicked and, at one point, someone’s fist banging on a hollow metal compartment, along with England’s muttered comments, which begin relatively coolheaded and quickly turn panicked: have to get the air up - pressure drop cells nine through thirteen, I don’t - get up, get up! - this gauge must be wrong, I’m not reading - this can’t be so - dammit, move! This continues for about five minutes until the whirring seems to stabilise and a relative silence whitenoise is restored.)_

Canada: Are you alright? That was intense.

England: Remind me to ask Germany about a new inflator. That took too long to engulf the secondaries. How’s America?

Canada: Still brainless.

England: Like usual, then.

Canada: Mister Levity of Death himself!

England: I couldn’t resist. Besides. You know it isn’t going to take.

Canada: Well… listen. About him.

England: If you two brats really landed two zeppelins to have it out in the midst of nuclear winter… let’s just say I’m tempted to make you grow reeds aboard the Margaret so that you can cut your own switch.

Canada: It was about a little more than that.

England: I assume so. Or did my eyes fail me? Was that a vision of Russia I saw?

Canada: No… that was he himself. That reminds me. I need a mining ship. For iron, not sulphur.

_(The abrupt squeak of a swivel chair.)_

England: You what?! You can’t have a mining ship, who’ll command it?

Canada: I would.

England: Then who’ll command the Margaret? Or the - that other ship of yours, the …

Canada: St-Jean-sur-le-Courant.

England: Yes, the French one.

Canada: I can divide my time between the three. Don’t you do that with your ships?

England: But they’re all signals. You’re agro! You can’t mine, you’d have to be down at the surface.

Canada: That’s why I need a new ship. I can’t take either of mine to the surface. Hulls aren’t insulated properly.

England: All this, just for him? Canada, what did he do to you?

Canada: I think it’d be right to … level the playing field.

England: I don’t imagine America will like it much.

Canada: Yeah… that’s why I need your voice to help me petition for it. I’m going to bring it up at the next meeting.

England: That’s in a week.

Canada: Given today, I think he’ll call an emergency meeting before that.

England: Ah. Yes. You’re probably right. What will he say?

Canada: I don’t think he’ll say anything. I think he’ll lie about it to all their faces until he can figure out how to spin it his way.

England: I don’t doubt it. It’s a can of worms admitting Russia never died. At least  _we_  can tell when he’s lying. Nevertheless - I assume you know what you’re doing, but you needn’t keep me so out of the loop. I’m afraid I’ll have to insist on some kind of explanation. What happened to you, and where have you been?

_(Shifting of clothing, and muffling/knocking sounds, as appropriate to a recorder being handled.)_

Canada: I’ll do one better. Take this -

_(click)_

**Author's Note:**

> This is totally not meant to be preachy or pro-communist or pro-capitalist or pro-anything at all. It's really just an excuse to try writing dystopic science-fiction flavoured post-apocalyptic fic. I hope I succeeded in making both sides look bad. c:


End file.
